Enemy Mine
by Sever Us1
Summary: Actually an old story from elsewhere posted here for the first time. Harry comes to terms with the horrors he's witnessed. Can he do it? How bad can things get first?
1. The Muggle's Nephew

TITLE: Enemy Mine (1/?) 

AUTHOR NAME: Alia / Sever Us 

CATEGORY: Drama (with shards of humour, action and romance)

KEYWORDS: Harry, Sirius, Remus, Draco, Fifth Year

RATING: R (for violence and distress – also some adult situations to come)

SPOILERS: All Books

SUMMARY: Enemies, friends, pain, redemption? Harry must come to terms with the horrors he's witnessed and experienced – but how? Reprieves are tempered with added misery, but an unwelcome house guest is the least of Harry's troubles. Plotting death eaters, an angry and vengeful dark lord, a swarm of Veela, a godfathers innocence to prove, muggle relatives that just won't go away and what's this about a pesky prophesy?! All this plus Quidditch, new classes and responsibilities, the best Christmas ever and … girls!

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR NOTES: I tend to focus on how people relate to each other and deal with life's situations – how they cope and grow as human beings (you're warned).

Thanks to my beta reader: Lenore with the red pen! 

**Chapter One: _The__ Muggle's Nephew_**

_The skeletal form of Voldemort rose from the depths of the cauldron at the base of the grave. 'Robe me,' he ordered the bleeding, whimpering form that was Wormtail._

_Those eyes, those horrible eyes glowing from that inhuman face bored into him, dripping evil._

_'Crucio!' the thing screeched. The pain was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He'd seen Moody do this spell on a spider, heard Cedric's cries when Krum had put the spell on him, but none of that had prepared him for how much pain could be inflicted on the human body. A lifetime of hiding pain and fear shattered in the face of that curse._

_He screamed then, in spite of his best efforts to hold it in. He screamed and screamed until he was sure he must lose his voice, or someone from the local village must hear and send help. But neither happened and he kept screaming until Voldemort lifted the curse, laughing…_

'Wake-up you!' It took a moment (and a few good cuffs) before Harry Potter remembered that he wasn't on the ground in some distant graveyard, but in his bed on Privet Drive. 'Do you want to wake the entire neighbourhood?' demanded Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley. 'Honestly boy,' he snarled. 'Your aunt and I have better things to do than wake you out of screaming fits every night!' 

Harry groaned and sat up, reaching for his glasses to bring the room into focus. 

'For your information, I have an important meeting in the morning that could mean a very lucrative deal for my company.' He leaned in close to Harry punctuating each word with a poke to his shoulder. 'And if I lose it because of lack of sleep, it'll be on you.'

'Oh that'll be nice for a change,' muttered Harry, rolling his eyes. 'Because you **never** blame me for anything around here.' It took Uncle Vernon only a moment to appreciate Harry's sarcasm before rewarding him for it with a large, hard, slap square across his face. 

Through the stars now dancing in front of his eyes, Harry watched as his uncle stormed out of the room, locking the door. 

'Miserable bastard.' He grumbled, getting out of bed. 'Damn,' he added quietly as he surveyed his now broken glasses on the floor. The bridge had snapped and one of the lenses had popped right out and skidded into the corner. Retrieving the pieces, he took a seat at his desk to make repairs.

'Brilliant Harry,' he muttered to himself as he peered through the lens. 'Now you'll have great scratches blocking your vision … but on the plus side, I think you really wounded him with your wit there.' He chuckled softly as he popped the lens back into the frame and began Spellotaping the two halves back together. 

'And sitting up talking to yourself half the night and having nightmares the rest of the time…' He grimaced at his repair job. 'Yeah, this is just what you need to keep up if you want to convince everyone that Rita Skeeter was wrong when she said you were crazy.'

Rita Skeeter had written several stories about Harry during the last school year that had been as embarrassing as they had been untrue. In the end, Harry had learned to ignore her articles, as well as the ridicule they'd caused (mostly at the hands of the Slytherins) at school. Since Hermione had found out that Rita was an unregistered – and therefore illegal – animagus and had threatened to expose her unless she stopped writing for a year, Harry hoped that the wizard papers had lost interest in him for the time being.

His glasses now as intact as he would be able to make them without magic, and knowing that it'd be a while before he would be able to fall sleep again, Harry decided to respond to the latest letters he'd received from Ron and Hermione. He was dying to write to Sirius as well, if just to know he was safe, but Dumbledore had specifically told him not to. 'It's just too dangerous right now for you to be in contact Harry,' he'd said.

So, pulling out some parchment and a quill, he began writing as quietly as possible.

_ Ron,_

_Thank your mum for keeping asking if I can come stay with you at the Burrow. I sure hope Dumbledore will let me come soon – I guess we do have to trust that he knows best, right?_

_No, my scar hasn't been hurting and I suppose that must be good. I just wish I knew what was going on though. Hermione is sending me a subscription card for the 'Daily Prophet' so I can at least keep up with the news._

_You'll find it disgusting, but to keep my mind off things I actually had Hermione send me a bunch of her books to read. ~Really, there's nothing else to do here. Dumbledore made me promise not to go far from the house, I've already read everything here, TV is boring (__Dudley__ won't share anyway), and the Dursleys won't let me join the local library. I was going out of my head!_

_The most frightening thing is that some of the books she sent were quite interesting once I got into them. I've even learned some brilliant new charms I can't wait to try out when I get back to school._

_Well, say hi to everyone for me._

_Harry_

_P.S. There's a letter for Hermione attached as well – Hedwig already knows to go on to her next._

And,

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thanks for the last load of books. I'll send them back with Hedwig when she's not making stops (she delivered to Ron before you). Did you charm them to be feather light while school was still in? I mean surely you didn't break rules and do magic during the holidays?! (Ha Ha)._

_Seriously though, I have to admit I actually liked some of them. I'm even thinking of taking Arithmancy next term! If you can spare any more books, I'd love to read them._

_My scar hasn't been hurting (Ron asked too) and I really hope that's a good sign. I also haven't heard from Sirius yet and I'm getting a little worried. –You would tell me if the 'Daily Prophet' reported him caught wouldn't you? Because I'd want to know – no matter what._

_I just hope he's OK._

_Nothing new here really.__Dudley__ actually lost a few pounds and promptly celebrated by eating a pint of ice cream… He's got to go to a diet specialist tomorrow._

_Take care,_

_-Harry._

Hedwig flew in the open window with a dead mouse dangling from her beak just as Harry finished the second letter. He stroked her feathers and praised her hunting prowess for a minute before tying one letter to each leg. 'First Ron and then Hermione ok?' She hooted softly, and nipped his ear affectionately as he carried her to the window and watched her fly off.

The luminous alarm clock next to his bed flashed 4:03AM. Yawning, Harry took off his scratched, taped glasses and laid back down – perhaps not surprisingly in his weary state, he fell asleep almost instantly and just as quickly into some brand-new horrible dreams.

_Cedric was there, and his parents, Bertha Jorkins, an old muggle… The same shades who had spoken to him in that graveyard… Only in the dream they weren't encouraging him or telling him what to do … no, in the dream they all walked past him – **It's your fault we're dead** … He tried to tell them he was sorry, but found he couldn't speak. Then Hermione, Dumbledore, Sirius, Lupin, Ron and all the other Weasleys were there – he even thought he saw the Dursleys in the crowd of faces that surrounded him now. It was Ron who stepped forward to speak to him finally **- Who's next Harry?** he asked **Who of us are you going to kill next?**_

Harry sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat and shaking uncontrollably. 'I didn't!' he whispered brushing tears away from his eyes and punching his pillow violently _I couldn't._ A boiling hatred was stirring in Harry's gut such as he'd never felt before, _Wormtail__!_ He thought savagely, _Wormtail_ who had betrayed his parents, framed Sirius, murdered Cedric and brought Voldemort back… His last thoughts before drifting off again were of vengeance: If it's the last thing I do, he swore to himself _I'll get that rat._

************

'Up! Get up!' screeched Aunt Petunia 'You've missed breakfast. You'll have to see if Mrs. Figg will give you anything.'

Unwillingly Harry was pulled into wakefulness by his aunt's voice. 'Wha-?' he asked groggily, trying to sit up 'Mrs Figg? Is she coming over for breakfast?'

'Don't be stupid,' she snapped 'Your uncle is at work and I have to take Dudley to the _specialist_.' When Dudley had come home for the summer holidays, it had been with a note from his school saying that for health reasons he would have to see a 'nutrition' specialist before he would be allowed to return for the next term. Aunt Petunia had wailed and wailed that Dudley was just 'stocky' and she didn't need some 'specialist' to tell her how to feed her own son, but the school had left them no choice if Dudley was to return to school in the fall. 

'I'm not about to be burdened with you in London all day, and you're certainly not staying here alone. SO GET UP BEFORE YOU MAKE ME LATE!' she fairly screamed. 'You're going to Mrs. Figg's for the day.'

'But I'm nearly 15!' said Harry indignantly, putting on his glasses and getting out of bed. 'I'm not going to a _baby-sitter_!'

'You'll bloody well do as you're told – or else!' she threatened.

'Fine – 'he snarled back at her. 'Fine. It's better than hanging around this lousy mausoleum all day anyway.'

'That mouth will get you walking funny for a few days if you're not careful…' she replied dangerously, her eyes angry slits as she closed the door.

Actually, if it were possible, Mrs. Figg's house was even more of a mausoleum than the Dursley's. But Harry hated being treated like some six year-old with a box of matches. Angrily, he threw on some clothes, rolled up the sleeves and legs, and stomped downstairs. Aunt Petunia hadn't lied. Breakfast was already cleaned up and she was ushering a protesting Dudley out the door. 'Hurry up,' she snapped at Harry as she passed him.

No one said a word as Harry got out of the car at Mrs. Figgs house and slammed the door. His aunt drove away before he'd had even reached the front walk.

With an effort, Harry pushed his dark mood aside as Mrs. Figg rushed down the walk to meet him and cheerfully usher him inside – after all, it wasn't her fault how his aunt treated him. 'Hello Mrs. Figg.' He smiled warmly at her. 'How are y—' he began, but stopped as he saw a great black dog bounding up to him. The canine leapt up, placing its forepaws on his shoulders and transformed before his eyes into his godfather.

'Harry it's alright.' Sirius smiled at his shocked expression. 'When your aunt called her about taking you, Arabella contacted me immediately so I could see you.'

'Sirius?!' stammered Harry. 'But how?! … who?! … Arabella?!' And suddenly a memory clicked in Harry's mind. Turning to Mrs. Figg he asked, 'You're _Arabella_ Figg?!'

'Guilty.' She smiled.

'The one Prof. Dumbledore …?'

'None other.' She smiled again at Harry's shocked expression. 'Some tea I think, and cake.' She winked as she bustled off to the kitchen.

'Mrs. Figg!?' muttered Harry in shock. When Prof. Dumbledore had told Sirius to alert the old crowd, including one Arabella Figg, it hadn't even occurred to Harry that he meant his old neighbour_ Mrs_. _Figg_. 'All this time …' 

'Harry,' smiled Sirius, taking a good look at him. 'How are you? Holding up?' 

Harry brought his attention back to his godfather. 'Yes. Fine,' he answered almost defiantly. Sirius looked at him appraisingly. 'Been a bit worried about _you_ though…' he admitted.

'I am sorry Harry,' said Sirius, leading him to the couch to sit. 'I wanted to contact you sooner but there are so many wards and protections around your house it'd be too dangerous. And,' he scowled. 'Dumbledore reckons Fudge is monitoring your post so I didn't dare owl you.' Harry knew there were protections around the Dursley's house – Voldemort had told him so when he'd had Harry in the graveyard.

'Reading my post?' he frowned. 'What, to catch _you_? Or because he thinks I'm mental? Is that legal?' He looked up at Sirius. 'I _can't_ believe that Hedwig would let Fudge read my post.' If Hedwig wasn't even safe from giving away his private letters … 

'She wouldn't even know they were being intercepted, Harry. It's a charm on the outer edges of the wards around your house.' He sounded disgusted 'It reads the letters carried in and out without even touching them. A 'quick-quotes' quill records the words as the owl passes, none the wiser.' He sighed as Mrs. Figg brought out the tea and joined them.

'Thanks, Arabella.' He smiled warmly at her as she poured out the tea. 'I can't thank you enough for contacting me and letting me see him.'

'Oh hush dear,' she said quickly, offering the sugar. 'It's the least I could do.' She handed Harry rather a large piece of cake, her eyes bright.

'Thank you,' said Harry, taking the plate and diving in hungrily. Shocked and glad as he was to see Sirius, he had missed breakfast. 'It's quite good Mrs. Figg,' he offered finally, not sure what to do about her misty eyes.

'Thank you, dear' Mrs. Figg blushed, smiling. 'You are sweet.' After a moment she seemed to collect herself and smiled at Sirius too.

It was indeed very good cake, much better than the stale cake she'd given him the last time he'd been left here, just before he'd found out he was a wizard. 

Harry could feel Sirius' eyes on him and he knew his godfather was waiting for him to speak, but in actual fact, Harry was stewing over the news that his private post wasn't so private after all … and the more he thought about it, the more annoyed he felt – no, scratch that, thought Harry, he wasn't annoyed, he was _angry._

'Sirius?' asked Harry finally, breaking the silence. 'How can Fudge be intercepting my letters? I mean what gives him the right?' Harry could hear anger rising in his voice. 'It's like I'm some kind of common criminal!' he steamed indignantly. 'It's not fair, I've done nothing wrong! It's not my fault…'

'Harry,' Sirius stopped him. 'It _isn't_ fair and you haven't done anything to deserve this invasion of your privacy.' He sighed before continuing in an angry growl. 'Bloody Fudge! Arrogant ass wouldn't know what to do with a brain if he found one in his breakfast cereal…' Sirius went on in this vein for some time, his descriptions of Fudge's inadequacies getting increasingly vulgar and graphic.

As he listened, Harry could feel his anger slowly dissipating. He was impressed. Sirius had quite an imagination and Harry wondered briefly if Sirius'd known all of those words from before, of if he'd learned some of them in prison…

After a minute or two of this though, Mrs. Figg cleared her throat loudly. Blushing furiously, Sirius began stammering apologies, but Mrs. Figg stopped him with a smile.

'No really - I must applaud your use of *ahem* fascinating - if physiologically impossible imagery.' She winked at Sirius, grinning. If anything, he blushed more.

'I'm sorry,' he stammered again, looking down. 'Not used to being around people much.'

'It's alright,' she said softly and, in what shocked Harry as an oddly familiar gesture, she reached over and gently ruffled Sirius' already rumpled dark hair.

'Harry,' she turned to the younger wizard. 'As Minister of Magic, Fudge does have the right to implement the eavesdropping charm. Though,' she added, her eyes flashing, 'you are quite correct, it's usually reserved for criminals under investigation. I rather think you're right in thinking he's trying to get to Sirius.'

'Oh no!' Harry suddenly remembered the letters he'd written the previous night. 'Sirius, I just sent a letter to Hermione this morning!' He had gone quite pale and was shaking like a leaf. 'I mentioned your name! Fudge'll know we've been in contact!' He stood up nervously, looking around, half expecting ministry hit-wizards to storm the front door.

'It's alright Harry,' said Sirius jumping up as well and squeezing Harry's shoulder. 'Fudge knew before now that we'd been in contact – or suspected it.' He pushed Harry gently back down. 'I think he's sure you're still confounded.' Harry was quite visibly upset though, and Sirius sat next to him, rubbing his back gently for several minutes before Harry managed to stop shaking and regain some colour.

'I just don't want you to get caught because of me Sirius,' he croaked finally, looking up at his godfather.

Sirius smiled at him kindly, and reaching over, he copied Mrs. Figg's gesture and gently ruffled his hair. He opened his mouth, no doubt to say something reassuring but instead, he frowned, as if he'd just spotted something odd. 'What the hell happened to your glasses?'

'Er …' said Harry, surprised for a moment by the sudden change of subject. 'They fell.' Lying to Sirius made his stomach squirm – but the idea of telling the truth was just too embarrassing. 

'I can't do magic to fix them in the holidays, so .. I …I had to mend them with Spellotape…' he finished lamely.

'Give us them, Harry,' said Mrs. Figg gently. Avoiding hers and Sirius' eyes, he handed them over silently. Harry was sure that Sirius knew he was lying and he hated the feeling it gave him inside. Sirius seemed not to know what to say though, so when Mrs. Figg handed his glasses back, he simply thanked her and turned back to Sirius as though nothing had happened.

'Do you know when Dumbledore'll let me leave the Dursleys – you know – to stay at the Burrow? Mrs. Weasley's invited me and Dumbledore said later in the summer…'

Sirius frowned at him for a moment longer, clearly not sure whether to press Harry about his glasses before he finally answered almost nervously: 'Ah … no, Harry. Not yet. You see, there's a lot to consider – not that we don't want you to go!' he added hastily. 'It's just that, well … there's a special charm see … very complicated magic really. Only Dumbledore knows exactly how it works… You see, when you're with the Dursley's…'

'I know,' Harry interrupted him. 'I know Voldemort can't touch me there, – he told me – Voldemort – he told me when …' he paused, trying to shake off the memories of terror, of Voldemort taunting him. '…When I was in that graveyard,' he finished.

Sirius gripped his shoulder tightly. 'I didn't know you knew about the charm Dumbledore used,' he whispered sadly. 'You didn't say he'd told you when you were telling us about what happened.'

'Didn't I?' Harry said quietly, looking at Sirius' pale face. 'I was in pretty poor shape at the time – I must've forgotten that part. Anyway,' he sighed. 'He didn't tell me anything about it really – just that Dumbledore'd invoked an ancient magic so that even _he_ couldn't get to me as long as I'm in my relations care. Which, by the way, totally sucks,' Harry added, surprising even himself with the bitterness in his voice.

Sirius looked heartbroken and Harry immediately regretted complaining. He _hated_ being forced to live with people who _hated_ him and everything about him. Worse, he _hated_ needing them to keep him safe, but he knew there was nothing Sirius could do about it, and it certainly wasn't **his** fault. 

The silence spiralled horribly for what seemed like ages and Harry wished desperately that he could take back what he'd said – he didn't want a moment's frustration on his part to cause his godfather pain…

'Well Harry, I've got some good news for you.' At the sound of Mrs. Figg's voice, Harry and Sirius both jumped. Harry had been so lost in self pity and bad memories, he'd forgotten she was there. 'When your aunt comes to get you – well, when she calls to tell you to come home,' she corrected herself. The Dursleys never came to get him from Mrs. Figg's, they always just dropped him off then called when it was OK for him to walk back. 'I'll be asking to hire you for the summer,' she finished.

Harry goggled at her. 'For what?'

Mrs. Figg grinned mischievously, and Harry wondered at how strange his life was that he'd taken it in stride so easily that she wasn't the dottering old neighbour he'd always thought of, but a witch and friend of Sirius and Dumbledore. He smiled then, as he imagined Aunt Petunia's head exploding if she ever found out who she'd been leaving him with all these years.

'Well,' she said conspiratorially, interrupting Harry's imaginings 'I'll tell her that I'll be picking you up every morning to help me with my errands and gardening.' She winked 'But what I'll actually be doing is bringing you back here for some special defence against the dark arts lessons.' Harry stared at her, shocked.

'Arabella is an Auror Harry,' smiled Sirius. 'Retired for now – at least officially – but working for Dumbledore all these years as your neighbour. Now that Voldemort is back, I imagine she'll be busy helping him again.'

'Yes,' she nodded. 'Now Harry, you'll be learning some theory, of course, but mostly I'd like to focus on some shields and dark magic detection charms. You've got a good grounding in the basic curses, but there are more you should learn and practice…' Harry was listening with growing happiness, he could get out of the house - get away from the Dursleys… but then he remembered something that put a puncture in his bubble of joy, sending him crashing back to earth.

'Wait a minute,' he said, confused. 'Don't get me wrong, I'd really love to get out of that house, and I'd love to be able to practice charms and such … but … the law … I'm underage…'

'Oh don't worry about _that_.' Mrs. Figg waved him off. 'Dumbledore has given special permission – in fact, he insists you do the practical lessons. As for the law and the ministry, well – Dumbledore and I have worked a bit of a shield around this house that'll mask you. Mind,' she added pointing her finger at Harry in mock rebuke, 'it's only in _this_ house you can do magic – so still no magic at home. I don't want you blowing up any more relatives, hear.' She winked, and Harry smiled, a great bird of happiness taking flight in his chest.

'You know,' he grinned in spite of himself, 'I'm not really related to Aunt Marge – not technically…' They all laughed then and Harry felt some tension leave his body – It was the first time he'd laughed since he'd gotten off the train from school.

Harry spent an enjoyable afternoon with Sirius and Mrs. Figg. They talked about the lessons he'd be having, Quidditch, and other things wizardly. Mrs. Figg **did** make them both look at dozens of pictures of her newest cats as well though – Auror and witch, or no, she was still obsessed with her cats.

Harry was very excited to find out that his old DADA teacher Remus Lupin would be teaching him sometimes, as would Sirius. He scowled though when Mrs. Figg told him that Snape would be spending a couple of days with him as well, but even Sirius insisted that Snape could be useful (Sirius grimaced when he said it though, like it caused him a lot of pain to force the words out). 'I don't like him either Harry, but Dumbledore trusts him and I don't think there's anyone who knows more about potions, dark or otherwise than that … -er- bugger,' he finished finally with a repressive look from Mrs. Figg.

They also worked out a system where Harry could write and receive letters without having them read by Fudge. He drafted new letters to Ron & Hermione explaining the situation: they would still send 'dummy' letters with Hedwig through the wards for Fudge to read, so he wouldn't get suspicious, but anything to do with Voldemort, Sirius, or anything _secret_ would be sent through Mrs. Figg who would use Floo powder to send the messages from Diagon Alley.

Later, Harry held his breath while Mrs. Figg talked with Aunt Petunia on the phone, and actually 'whooped!' with joy when she hung up and said his aunt had agreed to let Harry work for her.

Against his protests, Mrs. Figg insisted on walking Harry home though. 'It's just too dangerous for you to be out alone right now,' she'd insisted, running upstairs to get her own invisibility cloak – she was much more agile and spry than she'd let on as her muggle alter-ego.

'I can't come with you Harry.' Sirius looked down at him sadly.

'Too bad my aunt won't let me keep a dog eh?' he laughed, trying unsuccessfully to cheer up his godfather. 'Hey, it's alright Sirius. We'll see each other here, right?'

'Yeah,' said Sirius gruffly and then to Harry's surprise, he pulled him into a bear hug. 'You be careful Harry.'

'And you!' Harry replied, his voice muffled in his godfather's robes.

****************

For the first time that summer Harry didn't dream about Voldemort, or Cedric, or dragons, or that terrible graveyard. In fact, when he woke the next morning the only dream he could remember having was one where he had been a great bird of happiness, soaring over the castle at Hogwarts with Hedwig.

*****************

Breakfast the next morning was a bleak affair though. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were silent, and Dudley was sulking over the strict diet the specialist had put him on – Harry had to keep pinching his leg to keep from grinning like an idiot. 

However, not even the thick layer of unfriendly tension in the Dursley's kitchen could put a dent in Harry's feelings of joy – in just a few minutes he'd be going to Mrs. Figg's house while Dudley would be starting an exercise regime - the appointment with the specialist hadn't gone well for Dudley. 

He'd been put on an even stricter diet than last summer, and with the addition of the exercises, Dudley was absolutely beside himself. Harry had no illusions that his lessons with Mrs. Figg would be easy, but he was quite sure they'd be easier for him than physical activity would be for Dudley.

Being in such a good mood, Harry even risked teasing his large cousin when his aunt and uncle's backs were turned by dangling his bacon in front of Dudley's nose before stuffing it joyfully in his own mouth. The round boy turned a very ugly shade of purple, his piggy eyes glinting maliciously.

'Harry's being mean!' he wailed, managing to make his lower lip quiver. 'He keeps dangling his bacon in front of me because he knows I can't have any.' He even managed quite a realistic sounding sniffle.

Aunt Petunia glared at Harry and started to console her 'Poor little Diddums'. Harry opened his mouth to point out that he'd only done it once, but before he could say anything, he found himself sprawled on the floor with his chair knocked over on top of him. 

His glasses were broken again.

He had to stifle a grin, though, as he got up and righted the chair and saw Dudley sniffling for real now. His father had smacked him as well (though not as hard as he'd hit Harry) and told him off: 'Don't be such a Nancy-boy Dudley – next time he does it smack him yourself instead of whining about it.'

Luckily for Harry, just then the bell rang, saving him from any further punishments. He joyfully picked up his broken glasses and winked at Dudley as he stuffed another piece of bacon in his mouth and fled to the front door.

********************

Mrs. Figg had heard from Prof. Dumbledore that Harry had been able to resist the _Imperius_ curse and had insisted on testing him on it four times in a row before finally nodding her approval.

'Well, well,' she said, impressed 'Very interesting, very interesting indeed.' She then questioned Harry carefully on how he'd felt when he'd been put under the _Imperius_ curse by the fake Moody, and the real Voldemort. Harry explained the floating sensation and the extra voice in his mind questioning the orders of the person doing the curse. He described how the voice grew stronger until it became his own voice and he could throw off the curse completely. 

'Extraordinary,' she said finally after listening intently to every word. 'I don't think Dumbledore could've done it at your age.'

'Sorry?' asked Harry confused. 'Done what?'

'Well,' she answered slowly, as if she were searching for the right words 'Voldemort, evil as he is, still was, and _is_ powerfully magical – not a match for Dumbledore of course, but not as outmatched as most.' She looked at Harry with an almost amazed respect. 'That you could throw off his _Imperius_ curse so easily, at the tender age of 14, _and _injured, _and_ after having already endured the _Cruciatus_ curse – twice wasn't it?' Harry flinched remembering the pain, but he nodded. 'Well, Harry, that _is_ amazing – and unprecedented. I'd be curious to see what you could do against the _Imperius_ curse if Dumbledore put his full strength behind it.' She smiled again. 'That should be impossible to throw off – but …' she chuckled briefly, 'I should very much like to see you try!'

His extra training with Mrs. Figg, Lupin and Snape (Sirius hadn't been back since the first day) was harder than he could've imagined. For a little old lady fond of cats, Mrs. Figg was a gruelling taskmaster; and Lupin and Snape were toeing the line of hard work for Harry she'd established. He returned to Privet Dr. each day feeling exhausted and sweaty – and in no mood to listen to Dudley complain about his exercise regime. At least Dudley wasn't being hit with transfiguration and boil hexes over and over again to force him to get better at shield charms – unlike Dudley, however, Harry actually enjoyed the hard work.

Still, he was knackered, and the first break Harry had from the long days trying to deflect curses and the long nights doing homework came Friday afternoon, the end of the first week of his extra lessons. 'I need to take my cats in for a checkup,' explained Mrs. Figg, nodding her approval as Harry successfully identified the cursed object on a table filled with trinkets. 'Besides dear, you've earned an afternoon off.'

Harry would normally prefer to stay at Mrs. Figgs alone, watching paint dry than spend more time on Privet Drive, but today, the Dursley's were all going to be out of the house. Uncle Vernon, of course was at work, Aunt Petunia was at a ladies tea, and Dudley was supposed to be with his trainer at the recreation park – he'd have the place to himself, to relax and maybe even read in peace and quiet.

'Mind you do all your homework though,' teased Mrs. Figg jovially as Harry climbed out of her car in front of the Dursley's house. 'Or Remus and Severus will have your hide.'

'I promise,' Harry laughed back 'And good luck with the cats,' he called as she backed out of the drive.

It was a warm July day, and Harry quickly found his second story room too hot and stuffy. It was a risk, he thought … if he was caught, Uncle Vernon would murder him … but no one was due home before 5PM, and that was hours away. It would be nice and cool in the shade of the back garden – the perfect spot to relax and read.

'Sod it,' he thought. 'Why shouldn't I read where it's comfortable?' Still, he found himself on tiptoes as he made his way downstairs and out the back door with his book, _Moste__ potente potions_.

He hadn't been reading for half an hour though when he was startled by a hard poke to his shoulder. Involuntarily he jumped and cried out, dropping the book to the ground.

It was Dudley! Quick as he could, Harry snatched up his book – but too late – his large cousin had seen it.

'Dad'll kill you!' he said, taking a step back. 'You're not allowed to have _that_ kind of book out of your room.'

'So,' said Harry, trying to sound braver than he felt. 'Go on and tell him then – I don't care.' And he really didn't at that moment. He clutched the book to his chest though – he didn't care what his uncle did to him – not really… but the book belonged to Hermione and he didn't want it destroyed.

'You bloody should!' he replied, a vicious glint in his eyes. 'You're going to get it – and serve you right – I hope he kicks you out!'

'Huh, so do I,' snapped Harry, as he turned and hurried back up to his room.

'Damn. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger ….' Harry swore over and over in his room. He was shaking more than he had done before facing the Hungarian Horntail last year at school. Why wasn't Dudley with his trainer? Had he skived off – and would his parents even care once he'd told them about Harry's school book? Probably not, Harry told himself angrily – the worst they'd likely do to Dudley would be to cut his pocket money - what they'd do to him though…

Quickly, he gathered up Hermione's books and hid them under his invisibility cloak in the corner. His own books he put in his school trunk, except for _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3_. If his uncle decided to tear up one of his books, this old one could be sacrificed.

Next, he opened Hedwig's cage and poked her awake. She hooted indignantly and glared at him with one beady eye, 'I'm sorry Hedwig,' he said apologetically as he tried to shoo her out 'I know it's early, but I've really done it this time – he's going to be in a rage and I don't want you in harms way.' She seemed to understand his good intentions and nipped affectionately at his finger before flying out the open window.

Waiting was agony, especially with Dudley hanging about outside his door chanting: 'You're gonna get it' over and over. He tried to ignore him; he even tried to read one of the muggle books left over from when the room had been Dudley's spare room, but it was no good. He knew he was in big trouble. 

Finally, as the clock on his nightstand turned to 5:16 he heard the front door open and close. A second later, he heard Dudley's whining voice calling loudly down the hall: _'Da-ad, guess what Harry was doing!?'_

With a sigh, Harry put his glasses carefully in his desk drawer and waited for the boom to fall.

***********************

'Stupid, Harry,' he muttered to himself later that evening as he crouched on the floor of his room mending the book, which his uncle had, indeed, torn to bits. 'Bloody reckless – did you check no one was here? No… stupid git … that'll have to do.' Tossing the repaired book aside, he prised open the loose floorboard under his bed and retrieved several chocolate frogs from the supply he kept stashed there.

The chocolate made him feel a little better almost instantly. He felt some of the tension leave his body – the soreness lessen as he stretched out his stiff muscles.

He didn't bother to check the door – even if it wasn't locked, it'd be suicide to leave his room while the Dursleys were still awake after this.

Harry glanced at the clock by his bed 7:20 – a bit early for bed he thought, and the chocolate had energised him some anyway.

He amused himself for a while by writing 'dummy' letters to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The four of them had invented quite a lurid soap opera for Fudge's benefit where Harry was carrying on romances with both Ginny and Hermione, both behind Ron's back, who was, himself seeing Hermione.

'I really am a cad!' he chuckled quietly as he finished the last letter and set it aside with the others for Hedwig to take when she came back.

8:30 – _better do my homework_, he thought, not wanting Snape and Professor Lupin angry with him as well – so, listening very carefully for any footsteps in the hallway, he took out the parchment, quill and books he'd need to complete the work.

************** 

The next morning found Harry dragging to get himself out of bed. 'Get up!' snapped his aunt through the door. 'You'll be late for Mrs. Figg.' 

Harry looked at the clock: 8:42. With a groan, he told his aunt he was up. He crawled out of bed and tried to stretch out his aching muscles. He'd been up late last night finishing his homework for Snape and Lupin. They'd each given him a lot to do, and he'd found it very hard to concentrate when his stomach kept growling.

His stomach was protesting even louder this morning and his head was getting in on the action as well. As he rushed to get dressed, gather his homework and hide his wand he suddenly found himself quite dizzy, and had to sit down to stop the room spinning. 

This wouldn't do at all for his lessons today, which he knew were to start with testing his shield charms. But knowing that Aunt Petunia's breakfast would already be cleared away and that nothing would have been set aside for him, he again reached for his highly useful hiding place under the bed and pulled out the last of the pasties Mrs. Weasley had sent him earlier in the week.

Finally, as satiated as he was going to get, he ran down the stairs. Uncle Vernon had already left for work (he always went in for a half-day on Saturday), and Aunt Petunia was just getting ready to leave with Dudley for his exercise session – neither of them looked at him as Harry brushed past them.

'If she sends you home early again today you'd better just consider carefully what you decide to do with that time,' his aunt said dangerously, walking past him as he sat stretching on the front step. He didn't answer her and ignored Dudley snickering nastily as they walked away. Once he was quite sure they were out of earshot though, he muttered quite a long stream of insults and curses under his breath until Mrs. Figg picked him up.

***********************

'Harry, you're distracted,' said Remus Lupin, crouching over him. Harry hadn't been quick enough to block the stunning spell and had had to be revived.

'Sorry Professor,' said Harry, sitting up and taking off his glasses to rub his head.

'Harry, a Death Eater won't revive you to give you a second chance – what _is_ on your mind?'

'Huh,' Harry chuckled softly, 'these things…' He held up his glasses. 'I've fallen 50 feet from a broom, been attacked by a dragon, Death Eaters, Wormtail and Voldemort – and they don't break – you stun me – they don't break … but Uncle Vernon …' he chuckled nervously again. 'Every other day on Privet Drive they break – I wonder why that is?' he finished curiously. Professor Lupin was staring at him with a worried look on his face.

'Sorry,' Harry said, standing. 'You're right, I'm not concentrating, lets try it again.' He held his wand ready, but Lupin shook his head.

'No, Harry, I don't think we'll get anywhere with your mind so clearly elsewhere.' He motioned for Harry to sit on the couch. 'And we'd better clear your head before Severus gets here or he's likely to poison you.'

'I'm sorry,' repeated Harry sitting down and running his hands distractedly through his messy black hair. 'I'm sorry…'

'Harry, what is it?' Lupin asked, looking quite concerned now. 'You're upset about your glasses?'

'Ha – no,' he laughed hollowly. 'No, it's just I hate living there, you know … I just feel so isolated … from everything when I'm there.'

Harry had been on the verge of telling his professor how he had to hide everything he was there - how he couldn't say the name of his school, how he couldn't even say the _word_ magic - or Hogwarts, or broomstick, or anything that had anything to do with who he was most of the year. How tired he was of pretending, how horrible he felt all the time … the nightmares, Cedric's death … _It's my fault_ he thought bitterly, _all my fault - I deserve it all…_

But no, he couldn't - on Privet Drive he may have to be Harry _'Boy!'_ Potter, despised and afraid, but here he could be the Harry he was at school – a Harry who did well in most of his classes, had friends, and was even, occasionally – when the situation called for it … _brave_. Professor Lupin and his friends at Hogwarts knew very little about the Privet Drive Harry, and he wanted to keep it that way – as far as he was concerned, those two Harry's had never met. Standing up, he spoke to his professor again, 'But this is stupid – I shouldn't be on like this, It's not like it's new - can we get back to practicing my shield charms now?'

'Not today Potter.' Severus Snape stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off of his robes, '**My** time is very valuable, and your time is now mine.'

'Severus,' said Prof. Lupin by way of greeting. He was still looking worried, but he didn't say anything more as Harry retrieved his homework for Prof. Snape.

'Lupin,' Snape replied icily 'I thought your specialty was defence, not 'cozy-chats'.' He smirked at his own joke.

'Hmm,' grunted Prof. Lupin in reply. 'Harry, be ready for a vigorous shield test on Monday, alright?'

'Yes, sir,' said Harry, handing his scroll to Prof. Snape. Lupin looked for a minute like he wanted to say something more, but seemed to think better of it when he spotted Mrs. Figg standing in the door to the kitchen.

'Potter!' Snape was saying, almost impressed. 'This is quite correct – how refreshing…'

In the kitchen, Mrs. Figg poured Lupin a cup of tea and sat down opposite him at the table.

'Something's bothering him – beyond the usual – even for him…' Remus noted. 'I just wish …'

'It's not in his nature, Remus,' she smiled warmly, patting his hand. 'After the way he's grown up, he doesn't know how to ask for help, or even understand, or trust help when it's offered.'

'He's letting us all help him with these extra lessons …'

'Oh, that's different dear,' she cut him off. 'First, it gets him out of that house – I think he'd wrestle a basilisk if it got him out of there every day. Plus, to him, this is just an extension of school really – not like asking for help. But,' she sighed reaching into the cupboard for some biscuits, 'I think the main reason he was willing to take these extra lessons was because Dumbledore and Sirius wanted him to.'

'Of course – Sirius!' he cried 'Maybe he'll talk to _him_.'

'We can't risk Sirius being here any more than absolutely necessary.'

'It _is_ 'Bella,' said Remus earnestly. 'I don't think he's sleeping very well and he's distracted. Sure, it's probably all about what happened in that graveyard – but he needs to cope so he can move on, and focus.' He took her hand now. ' 'Bella, it's still preying on his mind – it's distracting him and it makes him vulnerable.' He looked at her desperately. 'Mostly though, it's the look in his eyes I'm worried about – 'Bella, James had that same look in _his_ eyes sometimes – just after his folks …' He broke off, looking down at his untouched tea. 'He _needs_ Sirius,' he finished finally, his voice breaking slightly

'I'm not sure he'll talk to Sirius either Remus.' She looked very sad and he wondered if she knew something he didn't. 

'Auntie 'Bella …' he pleaded, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes – he knew exactly how to get to the old Auror.

'Alright!' she acquiesced finally. 'Bring Sirius on Monday – after you've tested Harry's shield. But I won't have either of you pressuring him to talk if he doesn't want to – he'll come around in his own time and we owe him that right.'

Knowing that there would be no point in arguing, Remus switched to a happier topic. 'Alright then – I've been thinking about Harry's birthday. What about inviting his Quidditch teammates?'

'Already have done …' she smiled, happy for a change of subject.

***************

'Sir,' asked Harry, as his potion simmered. Snape glared at him but Harry pushed on. 'Does Polyjuice potion work on muggles? Or the _Imperius_ curse?' Snape was still glaring at him, though not quite as venomously.

'A muggle cannot be transformed with Polyjuice potion, nor can a witch or wizard use it to become a muggle,' he lectured. 'The potion can only react to the blood of a witch or wizard … they are, however, quite susceptible to the _Imperius_ curse - when should you take that off the flame?' he added, nodding toward the cauldron.

'It'll start swirling counter clockwise, then turn clear,' Harry answered quickly. 'It should come off the flame just as it starts to go clear.' Knowing he had it right, he decided to plough on with his line of questioning. 'What's to stop someone cursing the Dursley's when they're away from the house?'

'Correct,' growled Snape. He met Harry's eyes briefly and looked almost sympathetic, 'There is a potion that works only on muggles – it keeps them impervious to charms and curses. Your family has been fed it secretly ever since you got there – which is why, every time you let loose with some unfocused magic as a child, you only affected things around them, and never them personally. Very good,' he added as Harry correctly timed the removal of the cauldron from the fire. 'Now tell me how it must be stored.' Harry quickly filed away the information about the potion the Dursley's were being fed and returned his attention to the potion at hand.

'Any potion not stored in airtight bottles after an hour will be spoiled. It's stored in small bottles as any exposure to air weakens its potency. The bottles must be stored away from direct light and heat. Also,_ Veritaserum _increases in potency as it ages so it's a good idea to date the bottles…'

*******************

Come Sunday morning, Harry was very much looking forward to a long day of doing nothing – his plans, however, were dashed first thing by Dudley shouting loudly about his unsatisfactory breakfast. Figuring he may as well get up and get something to eat, now he was awake, Harry headed downstairs. But all thoughts of a lazy morning, evaporated quickly – the moment he set foot in the kitchen he was presented with a long list of chores to complete. 

'And not a bite of lunch until you're done – we've left you too idle this summer so far and just look where it got you.' 

Harry looked at his list morosely – it was quite long, and he'd be hard pressed to get it done by lunchtime. He set to it without complaint, though – feeling that he'd pushed his luck quite far enough recently with his aunt and uncle. It was a close call, but he just managed to finish his last chore on the list – _make lunch_ – in time for the Dursleys to pile into the kitchen from a busy morning enjoying the sun in the back garden. At least they didn't say anything as he sat down to eat with them Harry thought.

He was just washing up the lunch dishes when he heard the front bell ring. He didn't pay much attention as he heard Uncle Vernon make his way to the door, but his angry snarl as he spoke to whoever was there carried over the sound of running water. Harry quickly shut off the tap and dried his hands knowing that somehow, this would be his fault. Maybe the Weasley's had sent another letter. He hoped his uncle didn't get too worked up; he didn't relish the idea of being in trouble with his enormous uncle again, so soon after Friday's incident.

'Boy! Get out here.' There were two boys living here, and both were in the kitchen at the moment, but when Vernon Dursley bellowed that command he only ever meant Harry. Dudley snickered viciously as Harry gave a resigned sigh and headed into the corridor.

The sight that met his eyes as he approached the door however, caused Harry's heart to leap into his throat. 'Professor Dumbledore!' he cried. A flurry of thoughts invaded his mind, the happiest being that the headmaster had come to take him back to Hogwarts early. Somewhat less appealing was the fear that he was here to tell Harry he was being expelled for having hexed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle on the train. Worst of all – _Sirius_ – had he been caught?

Some of what Harry was concerned about seemed to show on his face though as Dumbledore quickly reassured him. 'Alas,' he winked. 'No, Sirius Black has not been caught.'

Relief flooded over Harry. 'Then what…?' he began to ask, but was interrupted by an explosion in the form of his uncle, who seemed to be coming out of a temporary shock and regaining use of both his voice and body.

'Get away from my house!' he screamed at Dumbledore 'Your kind are not welcome here. Never come near my family again!' And with that, to Harry's horror he slammed the door in Dumbledore's face.

Harry could hear knocking from the other side of the door, but was distracted by his uncle grabbing him roughly by the shirt to lift him off the ground and against the wall. 'How dare you,' he snarled dangerously, spittle spraying Harry's face 'invite freaks like that to **my** house…'

'I didn't.' managed Harry, finding it difficult to breathe. 'That's my Headmaster – I don't know why he's here.' The insistent knocking stopped suddenly and Vernon dropped Harry in shock as a loud voice sounded from the open lounge window.

'Vernon Dursley, if you do not open your door and let me in, I shall blow it through the back of your house.' 

Harry instantly recognised the dangerous tone in Dumbledore's voice and hoped his uncle wouldn't test him. But Uncle Vernon just stood there turning various shades of purple – so, not wanting to find out if the headmaster really would blow apart the Dursley's door, Harry opened it himself, not daring to look at his uncle.

When he opened the door however, he was shocked to notice that Dumbledore was not alone. 'You!!' he cried in disgust at the most unwelcome guest he'd ever received at the Dursley's since Aunt Marge: _Draco__ Malfoy_.


	2. In my enemy's house

* * *

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**Title:** Enemy Mine (2/?)  
**Author name:** Alia / Sever Us   
**Category:** Drama  
**Sub Category:** Action/Adventure  
**Keywords:** Harry Sirius Remus Draco Dursleys  
**Rating:** R  
**Spoilers:** SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, FB, QTTA  
**Summary:** Enemies, friends, pain, redemption? Harry must come to terms with the horrors he's witnessed and experienced – but how? Reprieves are tempered with added misery, but an unwelcome house guest is the least of Harry's troubles. Plotting death eaters, an angry and vengeful dark lord, a swarm of Veela, a godfather's innocence to prove, muggle relatives that just won't go away and what's this about a pesky prophesy?! All this plus Quidditch, new classes and responsibilities, the best Christmas ever and … girls!

  
**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.   
   
P.S. Thanks and blessings to my beta: Lenore with the red pen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter Two: _In My Enemy's House_**

`Harry,´ said the headmaster, slightly irritated. `May we come in?´

`No!´ bellowed Uncle Vernon. `I told you to stay away from my family! I don't want your kind...´

`Look,´ interrupted Harry, not sure he could be any more embarrassed and hoping his uncle did nothing more than glare at him for interrupting. `If they don't come in they're going to start attracting attention standing on the front step.´

It was only then that Vernon Dursley seemed to take in what the two people standing there looked like: though it seemed that Malfoy's hatred of Muggles didn't extend to clothes - he was wearing (very expensive looking) Muggle jeans, trainers and shirt - Dumbledore was dressed in summer weight long purple robes.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, but didn't keep him from letting the headmaster in. As Malfoy followed, scowling at Harry as much as Harry was scowling at him, Harry noticed with horror that his blond nemesis was dragging his school trunk.

`Ah, sir?´ Harry called out to Prof. Dumbledore eying the trunk. The headmaster gave Harry a look over his glasses, and as was so often the case when faced with Dumbledore's gaze, Harry felt uncomfortably like he could somehow see right into his mind.

`Harry,´ he said seriously `Would you please help Mr. Malfoy with his things? I need to speak with your aunt and uncle for a minute.´ Harry nodded sullenly, and refusing to meet Malfoy's eyes he reluctantly helped him lift his trunk into the hallway. `In the kitchen then Mr. Dursley?´ asked Dumbledore pleasantly.

Uncle Vernon was five shades of purple with rage and fear but he nodded, and followed the old wizard down the hall. Just before he reached the kitchen he turned back with a look in his eyes that said quite plainly to Harry: `You'll pay for this when he leaves.´

Harry sat down heavily on the bottom stair, his hands shaking ever so slightly. `What the hell are you doing here Malfoy?´ he managed. But before the other boy could answer, Dudley came running out of the kitchen, the look of terror on his face doubling when he spotted the other stranger in the hall. Dudley let out a little squeak, dancing back and forth on the spot like some terrified animal. It was pitiful, and Harry actually felt sorry for him - well, sort of anyway.

`Come in here,´ he said, getting up and pushing a bemused Malfoy into the lounge. Instantly, Harry heard Dudley thunder upstairs and slam his bedroom door.

`What was** that**?!´ demanded Malfoy in his usual obnoxious drawl.

`That was my cousin,´ replied Harry irritably, falling into a chair. `He's had some bad experiences with most of the wizards he's met, so he's a little nervous around strange ones like you.´

Malfoy laughed, ignoring the jab. `What a great lump - ooh, the famous Harry Potter's cousin!´ he snorted, taking a seat almost regally in another chair. `He makes Longbottom look positively trim!´

`Get stuffed Malfoy.´

`Ha! It looks like old `lumpy´ up there beat me to it!´

`His name's Dudley,´ Harry snapped. He wasn't sure why he was defending his cousin, he'd said worse about him himself, except that it was different somehow, coming from Malfoy. `And what _are_ you doing here anyway?´

`Believe me,´ he answered icily `It certainly wasn't _my_ idea. She left it up to Dumbledore where I went and he chose ... _here_.´ He finished with a disgusted glance around the room.

`Why aren't you at your foul _Malfoy Manor_ you're always on about?´ Before Malfoy could make a retort however, Dumbledore returned with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia who were looking both murderous and horrified. Both boys stood up, shuffling nervously.

`Harry, Draco's parents have disappeared. None of his relatives are able to take him in and we have no facilities to take him in at Hogwarts until school starts,´ Dumbledore began. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both winced at the mention of Hogwarts and Harry wondered if Dumbledore knew it wasn't allowed... `And as you may know,´ the old wizard continued, ignoring the Dursleys reactions, `this is probably the next safest place for him to be right now.´

Harry wanted desperately to shout NO! Let him go stay with one of his stooges - Crabbe or Goyle. But he couldn't disappoint Dumbledore... Plus, he knew that the headmaster usually had a very good reason for doing the things he did, no matter how odd they may seem. He glanced nervously though at his aunt and uncle, before turning his attention back to Dumbledore.

`I've spoken with your aunt and uncle, Harry, and it's all arranged. I think _you_ of all people might have some understanding of what your classmate is going through.´

`Yes, sir,´ replied Harry glumly, glancing briefly at Malfoy, who was looking determinedly at the floor.

`Excellent,´ said Dumbledore, clapping Harry on the shoulder. `I shall be in touch then.´ His tone turned serious then, and they both looked up. `I expect you to get along with each other, and Mr. Malfoy, you shall accompany Harry to his job every day with the neighbour.´ Malfoy nodded. `Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,´ he offered his hand to Uncle Vernon, who to Harry's shame, refused to take it. `Right then,´ said Dumbledore, his smile barely flickering as he pulled his hand back.

`Ah, sir?´ asked Harry. `Is Malfoy being here a secret? I mean, can I send a letter to my friends, or should I **wait**?´ he said significantly.

`Ah, yes, as to that. Actually, the fewer people who know he's here the better. I understand you'll want to share this information with your inquisitive friends, but they should keep it quiet, and I do think you should wait.´ He gave Harry a meaningful glance over his glasses. `Well I've got a bit of a walk. We've expanded the apparition-free zone around your house. I don't usually care for traveling by floo powder, but perhaps I'll find a fireplace closer ... yes, well, goodbye then.´ And, robes billowing behind him, he left.

During the uncomfortable silence that followed the departure of the old wizard, Malfoy stared impatiently out the window as the Dursleys glared angrily at Harry. `The guest room then?´ Harry ventured finally.

`Not on your life,´ spat Uncle Vernon `Marge may be coming, you'll have to move your old roll-away upstairs. He'll have to share with you. And you're in charge of telling him the rules around here,´ he snarled. `It's all on you boy.´ With that, he and Aunt Petunia stormed out of the room.

Harry looked resignedly at his new roommate, not sure which seemed worse: the prospect of a visit from Aunt Marge, or having to share his room with Malfoy. `Well, come on Malfoy,´ he said finally, heading out of the lounge and opening the cupboard under the stairs.

Staring into the tiny cupboard, a flood of memories momentarily paralysed him; how dark it was in there with the light bulb removed, how close it was...

`My bed is small enough to be stored in_ there_?´ Malfoy's indignant snarl snapped Harry back to the present and irritably he reached in and pulled the chain on the bare bulb which hung from a wire stapled to one of the stair runners. With a slightly sick feeling, he realized that nothing had changed since he'd moved upstairs when the letters had started coming from Hogwarts, just before his 11th birthday. He hadn't been in here since; tried to not even look at the door - with its lock on the outside...

`Let's get this over with,´ he said finally, tossing the pillow on the floor and heaving the mattress off the frame. It took them three trips to get the mattress, folding wire frame, and Malfoy's trunk upstairs.

`Gah!´ said Malfoy with disgust when he took in Harry's room. `My _closet_ is bigger than this.´

**********

_Pleasure... Pain... opposite - and not._

_These are in fact quite closely related - pleasure - pain..._

_Voldemort is feeling pleasure... I am feeling pain..._

_Love... Hate... Once I loved him - now I hate him... Are these less opposite as well? Or **did** I love him? How can you love that which takes pleasure from your suffering - from inflicting your suffering?_

_And yet, there had been a time when I would have **begged** to be allowed to be the one to cut off my own arm for him..._

_Would I now? **No**. _

_Would I offer the same sacrifice - and more now to Dumbledore? **Yes.**_

_The difference is, Dumbledore would not ask me to - not for himself - and knowing I have suffered like this..._

_`I accept your excuse Severus - you may rise,´ the creature that was the Dark Lord hissed, releasing him at long last from the _Cruciatus_ curse.. Snape did not allow the pain, and more importantly, the disgust he was feeling to show on his face as he struggled to his feet from where he'd been left gasping on the ground._

_`If the information you provide, and your **trusted** position inside Hogwarts weren't so valuable to me, you would be dead where you stand,´ the thing sneered. `Be grateful I do not punish you further.´_

_`You are too kind master,´ he forced himself to reply... _too kind_..._

Drenched in sweat, Severus Snape awoke with a start - a yell stifled in his throat.

`How can you sleep at a time like this?!´ Lucius Malfoy demanded, pacing the floor of his study. Severus had evidently nodded off on one of the study's Dragon-hide armchairs.

`What time is it?´ he croaked, trying to bring his eyes into focus.

`Almost noon - they've been gone more than 12 hours. I'm going to kill her for this - **slowly** - and Draco - he'll pay for going along. **I own them!!**´ he yelled maniacally. `Where the hell do you think you're going?´

`Dumbledore,´ Snape scowled, acting for all he had that he was disgusted with the notion. `I'm to meet him in an hour - we're supposed to be discussing security for next term.´ He ran his hands over his face, trying to smooth the sleep out of his eyes. `Maybe he'll know something about Draco - can't hurt to ask.´

As potions master at Hogwarts, Severus was well placed to spy for Voldemort - and Lucius knew that this meant that he occasionally had to duck out early.

`Of course - do be subtle about it though.´ He clapped him on the shoulder. `Can't have him knowing you've been in contact with me - we don't want him to suspect your true loyalty do we?´

`Quite,´ growled Severus. `Are you going to lift the wards so I can apparate or do I have to walk?´

_My true loyalty..._ thought Snape as he swept through the corridor toward the headmasters office nearly an hour later. _My true loyalty - if you only knew Lucius, you sick twisted son-of-a..._

`Pumpkin pasties,´ he grumbled at the stone gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office and brushed quickly up the moving staircase.

********

Harry and Draco had to rearrange the room to accommodate the second bed - Draco muttering the whole time about _manual labour_ being for elves and lesser wizards than he. So it was, that by the time they'd finished, and Harry had cleared enough room in the wardrobe and chest of drawers for Malfoy to unpack, the afternoon was gone, leaving Harry feeling decidedly disgruntled.

Why _did_ Dumbledore bring _Malfoy_ of all people _here_?! A bigger question to Harry, however - though he didn't dare ask was: what on _earth_ had the headmaster said to make his aunt and uncle agree to have _second_ wizard under their _very normal, thank-you very much_ roof?

`Right, rules.´ Harry sighed finally, giving up his ruminations and smirking as Draco tried to cram his many expensive shirts into the small wardrobe. `My uncle will probably ignore you completely, which is great for you. But if you hack him off, he'll take it out on me. And listen Malfoy, I hack him off enough on my own... I don't need any help from you.´ He glared as menacingly as he could manage at Malfoy before going on. `Don't say the words _Magic, Hogwarts, Wizard, Witch, Broomstick, Spell, Charm _... er ...´ he paused thinking. `Well, best to just stay away from anything not completely Muggle. If he starts turning purple, or sputtering, or if my aunt starts glaring at you, just stop whatever you're doing or saying.´ He frowned trying to think what else. `Oh, yes, don't say anything about Dudley's weight, or his diet, or ...´

`Jeez, Potter, is there anything I _can_ do or say around here?´

`Listen Malfoy,´ said Harry, pointing at him angrily. `If you screw up and get him after me I _swear_ that what we did to you on the train at the end of last term will be nothing to what I'll do to you the minute we leave the station this fall.´

`Whatever,´ drawled Malfoy lazily, sitting on the camp bed, though Harry noticed with some satisfaction that he looked a little uncomfortable.

Harry glared at him for a minute longer before going on. `Generally, I just keep quiet until I get to Mrs. Figg's. Oh yeah, under no circumstances can you let on that she's a witch - you _do_ know that my `job´ is really extra DADA lessons with her, Prof. Lupin, Prof. Snape and ... occasionally others.´ He'd almost said Sirius´ name but decided he didn't want to trust Malfoy with any information about his godfather.

`Yeah, Dumbledore mentioned it,´ Malfoy replied dismissively as he scowled at the lumpiness of his mattress.

`Well, if the Dursleys find out about it we're through, they'd never let me keep going. And, except for going there, we're not allowed away from the house and garden without my aunt and uncle, so if you mess this up for me I swear I'll kill you.´

`This can't suck any more than it does,´ moaned Malfoy.

`Oh yes it can - though I really don't want to think about how.´ Harry sighed. `Look, if you want to eat we'd better head down, they've already started.´

`Oh.´ Malfoy looked at the time. `It is supper time isn't it? I'd lost track, we were having such fun,´ he drawled sarcastically. `I didn't even hear anyone call us.´

`Nor will you,´ Harry mumbled on his way down the stairs.

Dudley choked on his soup when Harry and Draco came into the kitchen. Grabbing the spare chair in the corner and pulling it to the table, Harry ignored him, tucking into the meal. Long experience had taught him to eat what he could without delay in case his aunt or uncle got annoyed with him and sent him away from the table, or Dudley took his share as well as his own.

It was not a comfortable meal, however: Dudley looked like he was going to be sick and Aunt Petunia's lips were so tight with disgust that Harry thought they were in danger of caving in her teeth. Uncle Vernon's face was so many shades of purple and white as he glared suspiciously between Harry and Draco, that he looked like gone-off blueberry ice cream.

`Oh honestly people,´ snapped Malfoy finally. `What do you think I'm going to do? Hex you at the dinner table? Don't be ridiculous. Anyway, I'm not allowed to do magic in the holidays any more than _he_ is, so I don't know what your problem is, but it's giving me indigestion.´

Dudley fell over backwards in shock. Screaming, Aunt Petunia lunged after her son as he scrambled to his feet and tore out of the room. Harry just closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, knowing what was coming next.

`You, Blond boy. Go.´ Uncle Vernon looked so angry that Harry thought he might spontaneously combust from rage. `Up to Harry's room, _now_.´ Looking completely baffled, Draco didn't move. `**NOW!**´ screamed Uncle Vernon, causing both boys to jump. `I want a word with _you_.´ He snarled at Harry as the other boy got slowly to his feet, his eyebrows raised as he sauntered out of the kitchen. Harry could hear Malfoy making his way slowly upstairs as his uncle turned on him.

*****

`Ah, Severus, so glad you could make it.´ The headmaster smiled jovially. `We were just about to begin discussion of the new prefects for next term.´ With a brief nod, Severus lowered himself into one of the overstuffed chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

`Right.´ Dumbledore set a _veriquotes _ dictation quill on a sheaf of parchment on his desk. `First order of business - the new fifth year prefects. Slytherin?´ he asked the potions master.

`Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini,´ Snape answered quietly. `No other changes.´

`Very well,´ Dumbledore grinned slightly at the expression on Professor McGonagall's face before continuing. `Ravenclaw?´

`Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Padma Patil - no changes in upper years.´

Dumbledore nodded slowly, dreading the next house's report. `Hufflepuff?´

`Hannah Abbot, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones... Alma Montgomery will replace the vacant 7th form position,´ Professor Sprout finished, her voice flat.

`Thank-you Violet.´ He paused for a moment, his face betraying his weariness, before turning to the final head of house. `Minerva?´

`Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley,´ she said glaring at Snape's derisive snort. `For your information _Severus_, ` she didn't even try to hide the annoyance in her voice. `Mr. Potter, and Miss Granger have the top two positions in grades in their year, and with Mr. Weasley, they account for more cumulative points earned than many 7th year students.´

`As well as most points lost, most rules broken...´ Snape retorted. `May I remind you of what they did to Mssrs Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle on the train...´

`They were provoked!´ she yelled back, her face flushing. `And they weren't alone...´ Snape looked like he wanted to say more, but before he and the deputy headmistress could continue their verbal battle, Dumbledore stepped in.

`Enough,´ he said quietly, tapping the top of his desk. He didn't raise his voice, but they both recognized the dangerous tone, and knew to listen.

`I believe all of the recommendations made today are good choices, and I intend to endorse them all. Now,´ he said in a way that clearly closed further discussion. `Head Girl and Boy...´

The discussion of who would be Head Girl and Boy raged for some time. There was really no contest for Head Girl - even Snape had to admit that Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor was the obvious choice - gifted not only academically, but also on the Quidditch pitch, she was also known frequently to offer assistance to struggling lower form students of any house in the library.

Head Boy, however, was a cause for some debate. Augustine Ramir also scored very high academically, and was a strong player on the Slytherin Quidditch team. However, Sprout seemed dead set on Quillan Martin who scored close, but slightly lower than Ramir and wasn't even on the Hufflepuff team. Quillan should be put ahead of Augustine, Sprout insisted, because of his high moral character - her only complaint against Ramir seemed to be that he _was_ in Slytherin house.

_She barely even knows the boy,_ thought Snape irritably. _Assuming seemingly based only on the fact that he was a Slytherin that he had a lower moral character!_

`Slytherin is the house of the ambitious, not the inherently evil,´ he snapped. `Ramir has worked very hard to achieve what he has. He's earned his higher grades through hard work and he trains incessantly at Quidditch. His ambitions are insanely high - he hopes to play Quidditch professionally for a few years and then work his way up the auror ranks.´ He smiled ironically at Dumbledore. `He once confided in me that a Slytherin Minister of Magic is _cliché_ - ambition and scheming seem to be part of the job description - but, for a Slytherin to make it as a high ranking auror ... now _that_ takes _real_ ambition - with a heavy dose of irony to boot.´

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling - something they seldom did since the events of a month earlier and the equally rare smile was not hidden by his beard. `I've decided,´ he said, raising a hand to quell further argument. `Violet, while I agree that Quillan is an excellent student and a fine lad, I'm afraid I must agree with Severus - Augustine really has earned it.´ He glanced over to McGonagall quizzically as if waiting for her to weigh in.

`Well don't look at me,´ she said quickly, the corners of her mouth twitching. `I think you're right... A Slytherin auror...´ she smiled, clearly amused by Snape's surprised expression. `Now that takes nerve...´

*******************

Draco was sitting casually on Harry's bed reading one of the books Hermione'd sent when Harry finally came in, throwing sheets and a blanket at him.

`Potter ...´ he began, but Harry stopped him by holding up his hand.

`Just don't talk to me Malfoy,´ he snarled. The hand he'd held up to quiet the other boy shook worryingly as he grabbed the book out of Draco's hand. Throwing the book on his desk, he grabbed his Sellotape, and moved quietly to the window sill to repair his glasses.

`What happened to your specs?´ asked Draco a bit too casually as he collected the sheets from the floor.

`They broke,´ replied Harry shortly, not turning around as he tested his repair job. He waited until Draco was busy trying to make his bed before quickly changing into his pyjamas and flopping face first into his own bed, wondering: _if I ignore Malfoy, will he go away?_

`I didn't know they'd freak out like that Potter,´ Malfoy said almost apologetically though the petulant sneer was not completely absent from his voice.

`I wasn't kidding Malfoy,´ snapped Harry, forgetting to ignore him, though he didn't move from his stomach facing away. `You can read for a while if you want - ´ he continued icily, ` - your own bloody books. I'm going to sleep. Mrs. Figg'll pick us up at 9, so be ready. If you want breakfast, it's at 8 and cleared away by 8:30.´ Harry pulled his own sheet over himself and closed his eyes, renewing his efforts to forget that Malfoy was there.

`Goodnight Potter.´ Harry didn't answer, he was too busy trying, without success to decide if it were possible for this summer to get any worse.

When Harry woke next to someone shaking his shoulder roughly, he knew instantly that it wasn't morning - the night was still pitch. He opened his eyes and groaned to see Malfoy standing next to his bed, looking dishevelled.

`Bloody hell!´ came the booming, angry voice of his uncle from down the hall.

`Bugger,´ swore Harry. `Get back in bed, quickly,´ he whispered harshly to Draco who, to his own surprise as much as Harry's, quietly obeyed, his grey eyes glittering.

`What do I have to do to get a decent night's sleep around you boy?!´ bellowed Uncle Vernon, bursting into the room as Harry tried to disentangle himself from his sheets.

`Sorry,´ said Harry reaching for - then deciding against - putting his glasses on. He glanced nervously at Malfoy, who was sitting on the rollaway bed looking uncertain.

`Do I have to fit you with a gag?!´ Uncle Vernon demanded, a demented glint in his eyes.

`No, sir,´ mumbled Harry quietly, looking down, the memory of the foul gag Wormtail had stuffed in his mouth in the graveyard making his voice crack. `I'm sorry,´ he repeated.

`Damn lot of good that does. We're still awake every night thanks to you!´ he poked Harry hard in the shoulder and stormed out of the room glaring at Malfoy as he left.

`You were screaming,´ Draco said quietly before the hall light went out, an odd expression on his face.

`Go back to sleep Malfoy,´ snapped Harry, grabbing his glasses now and turning on the desk lamp to read. ´Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep.´

`Humph,´ Draco stared at Harry reading with his back to him for a moment before lying back down. `Whatever ...´ he yawned turning away and trying unsuccessfully to fall back to sleep.

*********

`This place sucks on so many different levels Potter,´ whined Draco irritably the next morning as they waited in front of the Dursleys house for Mrs. Figg to arrive. `I mean really, _skimmed milk_?! Honestly, watery chalk would taste better ...´

`She figures it'll make Dudley feel better if we're all suffering with him,´ Harry replied not looking at him. He was sitting on the step, absent-mindedly stretching his back and shoulders. `Just keep your mouth shut or she might decide to see how much it cheers him up if we get nothing,´ he added as Mrs. Figg drove up.

Draco didn't move from the step though, as Harry opened the car door and started to climb in. `Well, come on Malfoy.´

`That's an automobile,´ he said nervously. `Muggles drive them and crash in them and get themselves killed.´

`Very good Malfoy,´ Harry retorted. `It's an automobile, now get in so we can get out of here.´ Draco still didn't move, laughing nervously. `Malfoy?´ asked Harry, a hint of amusement in his voice. `Have you never been in a car?´

`Oh shut up Potter.´ Draco's pale face flushed as Harry chuckled. `I've been fortunate up until now to have very little contact with lousy Muggles.´

`I assure you it's quite safe Mr. Malfoy,´ said Mrs. Figg finally. She was smiling kindly through the window with her very best `sweet old lady´ face on. `Now come along, there's much to do today.´

Draco reluctantly got into the car, gripping the seat so tightly his knuckles were white. When they arrived at Mrs. Figg´s house he jumped out very quickly, his skin an unhealthy shade of green. `Get stuffed Potter,´ he snarled, as Harry shook with suppressed laughter.

`Sorry Malfoy,´ Harry chuckled. `Hey cheer up, today is a Snape day - he'll be here this afternoon.´

`Prof. Snape?´ asked Draco nervously as they followed Mrs. Figg into the house `Today?´

`Yeah, Malfoy,´ said Harry eying him carefully. `To teach potions - you know, like at school.´ He shook his head at Malfoy's unexpected reaction. `Should be interesting actually, with you here. I can't wait to see how he'll favour you,´ he laughed briefly. `I mean, it's not like he can take points from Gryffindor here. Hallo Prof. Lupin!´

`Hallo, Harry,´ smiled Lupin. `And Draco. Prof. Dumbledore told us all about your situation, and we're glad to have you here as well. You and Harry can work together.´ He winked at Harry knowing how badly he and Draco got along. `Harry - your glasses are broken again.´ He frowned when he noticed Harry's Sellotape repair job. `What _are_ you getting up to at home to break them so often?´

`Oh you know me,´ laughed Harry, handing the glasses to his professor. `Always into one thing or another.´ Though he was smiling at Lupin as he spoke, he shot a glare at Draco before retrieving the repaired specs with a quick `thanks!´.´

`No problem at all Harry,´ Lupin looked at Harry appraisingly. `I just wish ...´ he faltered, then sighing he changed the subject. `Well, right then, do you have your homework for me? Excellent.´ He smiled again, looking over the parchment Harry handed him. `Perfect. _Stupefy!_´ he cried suddenly, pointing his wand at Harry. Malfoy shouted with shock as Harry successfully blocked the curse, sending it whizzing past his ear.

`Very good Harry!´ laughed Lupin. `Well done indeed. You pass today's test. Now,´ he added smiling, `you may have the rest of the day off.´

Harry goggled at him in shock. `But ...?´ he began but Lupin shook his head.

`I need to catch Mr. Malfoy up a bit, so you two can work together. The same goes this afternoon with Prof. Snape - no doubt he'll want your homework as well, but other than that, you are free to relax in the back garden with the dog.´ He winked at Harry again.

`Snuffles is here?!´ cried Harry with joy.

`Go on then,´ Lupin laughed, making a mental note to tease Sirius ruthlessly later about his new alias *_Snuffles_*. 

Without another word, Harry ran out the back door. As soon as he spotted him near the flower bed, Harry watched his favourite massive black dog get up and walk to the far side of the garden shed. Running to catch up with him, Harry smiled to see that, secluded from the house, the dog had turned back into Sirius, who hugged him quickly before holding him at arms length to look at him.

`How are you Harry?´ Harry tried to tell him he was fine, but before he could stop himself, he'd launched into a lengthy description of how much he hated Malfoy, and how horrible it was to have to share his room with the stupid blond git.

`I'm sorry Harry,´ Sirius said trying to stifle a grin. `Remus told me you and the Malfoy boy don't get along, but I _can_ tell you that Dumbledore wouldn't have brought him to your house if he didn't have a good reason.´

`I know,´ sighed Harry, exasperated. `It still sucks though...´ Sirius laughed at his mock pout and pulled him into a playful headlock, rubbing his knuckles on his godson's head.

`Remus says you're doing really well on your extra lessons - except when you're distracted...´ Harry looked down with a shrug, waiting for a rebuke. When it didn't come, he looked up again slowly into his godfather's concerned gaze. `Do you want to talk about it?´

`No - Sirius, it's nothing really - Malfoy...´

`This was before he was here...´

`Sirius.´ Harry flopped down on a garden bench. `It was just one day - I was tired - I didn't sleep well the night before...´ He sighed, looking at his godfather sitting next to him. `You're not _really_ angry - are you?´

`No, of course not Harry.´

`Professor Lupin?´

`He was worried about you Harry - that's all - he thought maybe you might like to talk to someone who wasn't... well he thought maybe you could use a little encouragement from your dashing godfather.´ Sirius smiled at him trying to cheer him up.

`I'm fine Sirius. Please don't worry about _me_. How have _you_ been? Are you staying with Professor Lupin?´

`It's my job to worry about you Harry - no matter what you think,´ Sirius added strongly to quell Harry's objection. `I'm your godfather - it's in the manual, and I should know, because Remus made me read it.´ Harry shrugged slightly, but Sirius noted the smallest smile tugging at his lips. No teenager in his right mind would admit to needing someone to worry about him, but Sirius knew from his own teen years that in his deepest heart, Harry was glad of the attention.

Gazing up, Sirius found himself suddenly absorbed by the cloud formations and by how beautiful the sky looked. _It's amazing_, he thought. _ Why did it take not being able to see the sky for 12 years to appreciate how wonderful it is?_

He smiled then, remembering Lily... laughing, and pointing out the clouds. _`That one looks like a car!´_ She'd laugh, and laugh as she'd try and convince them all that every cloud in the sky looked like some sort of Muggle gadget.... Still smiling, he leaned back in the bench, looking at the wonderful sky. _Hmmm, that one looks like my motorcycle flying by_, he thought. _And that one looks like Lily, and there's James... and **there**,_ he thought, his expression darkening, _is a Dementor, and the wind is it sucking in its putrid breath..._

`Sirius?´ Harry's quiet voice penetrated his thoughts. With difficulty, Sirius brought himself back to the present and looked at his godson who was gazing at him with concern. `How _have_ you been doing?´

Shaking off the last of his melancholy, Sirius smiled. `I'm fine Harry.´ He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a small jar containing a thick, glutinous, amber potion. `Do you know what this is?´

`That's polyjuice potion!´ Harry squeaked, alarmed, and only too aware of what that potion was as he started to back away, wondering if this maybe wasn't actually Sirius.

`No, Harry!´ said Sirius quickly. `It's me - I haven't taken it yet - see...´ He opened the jar and swallowed a portion of the goo.

Immediately, his body began to convulse and Harry watched, remembering himself how the transformation felt as Sirius´ shoulder-length dark hair shortened into light brown, flecked with grey.

`Does Professor Lupin know you're...?´ gasped Harry.

`´Course he does,´ answered Sirius in Professor Lupin's voice. Sirius laughed at the sound of it. `You have no idea, Harry, how odd it is to speak, and hear someone else's voice coming out of your mouth.´ 

Harry blushed, laughing nervously. He _did_ know how odd it felt, he and Ron had used polyjuice potion to impersonate Crabbe and Goyle in their 2nd year in order to get information about the Chamber of Secrets from Malfoy. They'd broken _many_ school rules in doing it - Sirius wasn't to know about that...

`Er, Sirius? Why are you impersonating Professor Lupin?´

`Well, I can't very well take you to Diagon Alley as myself can I? What?´ he laughed. `You didn't think we were going to sit around hiding back here all day did you?´

`But...´ stammered Harry. `Is it safe?´

`You'll be with me, and Arabella, and in a very public place Harry.´ Sirius reassured him with Lupin's concerned face. `You'll be as safe as you can possibly be.´

`I meant for you,´ Harry retorted. He hated it when his godfather risked his safety to take care of him. `What if someone figures it out?´

`They won't,´ he reassured. `I'm just Remus out with my aunt, taking you shopping in Diagon Alley - perfectly normal.´

`Mrs. Figg´s your aunt?´ Harry asked incredulously.

`No, Remus´ aunt - goodness, didn't you know? Well, he doesn't often call her `auntie´ does he? Mind you,´ Sirius smiled at him with Professor Lupin's face. `He's the only person who can call her `Bella´ and live...What is it?´ he frowned at Harry's odd expression.

`Nothing,´ Harry shook his head. `It's just - I'm constantly amazed at the things I don't know, and never noticed... All my life, she babysat me - I got left here a lot - but I never noticed that she was a witch - and over a week, I've been here every day and didn't notice that Mrs. Figg and Professor Lupin are related... Am I just thick?´

`No,´ Sirius laughed, mussing Harry's hair. `No, just - preoccupied.... Remus and Arabella's relationship is - complicated. She's his aunt much like your aunt is your aunt - he grew up with her and his uncle as his guardians since he was four... Matthew, his uncle, died during the - conflicts, before...´ Sirius cleared his throat, leaving the sentence unfinished as he spotted Mrs. Figg approaching. 

Harry already knew that the topic of her late husband was one that upset Mrs. Figg, he'd known that since he was a young child and she'd dissolve into tears whenever she'd speak of him. Thinking back, he also suddenly remembered Mrs. Figg talking of her son - a teacher, and researcher at the university she'd say. She'd never shown him pictures of her son, or her late husband though, only the cats. The cat who had been especially fond of Matt, and those who had been especially sad to see _Remmy_ go off to teach at the university...

_Oh, how stupid can I be!!?_ thought Harry, he'd always thought `Remmy´ must have been short for `Remington´ or something - but _Remus!! - Remus J. Lupin!_ _Of course!_ But, if she was his aunt, why did she talk about him as her _son_? Harry wondered, but quickly decided that Sirius was clearly wrong - Mrs. Figg definitely liked Professor Lupin - which meant she was nothing like Aunt Petunia...

`You took it already?´ Mrs. Figg demanded, coming around the shed carrying clothes and looking annoyed. `Did you look at the time when you took it so you'll know when to dose?´

`Yes, Auntie `Bella,´ smirked Sirius, catching the clothes Mrs. Figg threw at him energetically. `What's this?´ he asked.

`You're half a foot taller than he is - yours are too big.´ Sirius looked down on himself, noticing for the first time that the sleeves of his robes hung over his - _Remus´_ hands. Standing up, he laughed as he tripped over his now too-big robes.

`Harry, come with me please, while he changes.´ The old witch led him toward the house, continuing once they were out of earshot. `I want you to leave your potions work behind - erm,´ she glanced in Sirius´ direction. `He won't be here today - ` She looked decidedly uncomfortable. `We don't really think that Draco would reveal that he'd been here... but for everyone's safety...´ Harry just looked at her politely - having no idea what she was talking about. `It's too bad Sirius can't reveal himself - he's nearly as good with potions as Severus - even with the time away...´ she broke off for a moment, her eyes misting again. Harry patted her hand in a way he hoped was soothing. `I'm not half bad myself - unfortunately, Remus always was hopeless with potions... at any rate,´ she continued, shaking off her melancholy. `Poppy is going to take over for a while, and...´ Mrs. Figg looked at him carefully, trying to choose her next words.

`Madam Pomfrey?´ Harry asked. `Let me guess,´ he scowled seeing her nod. `She wants to examine me. Well tell her to forget it - I'm fine.´

`Are you sure Harry? Do you need anything from her at all?´

`No!´ Harry replied, frustrated, but after thinking about it for a moment... `Well, I could use some dreamless sleep potion, but I doubt she'll let me have it - or something to stop my scar aching...´ He blushed, sensing Sirius/Professor Lupin behind him and realizing he'd said too much.

`You're scar's hurting you?´ Mrs. Figg demanded quickly.

`Are you having trouble sleeping?´ Sirius demanded at the same time. `Bad dreams?´

`No,´ Harry back peddled quickly. `It just aches - has ever since...´ He shrugged. `I sleep just fine.´ He felt his face burning with the lie. `Just the occasional dream about it - that's all.´

`Harry...´

`No!´ Harry said rather more vehemently than he'd meant. `I'm sorry,´ he sighed. `But I really am fine - and Madam Pomfrey fusses so...´ He chose not to mention the many perfectly good reasons he'd given her to fuss over his health and well being over the past 4 years. `Look, you don't have to take me out.´ He shrugged again. `I can just stay here and do the lesson again - the revision can't hurt, can it?´

`Nice try, Harry,´ Mrs Figg smirked. `He's not having a lesson today - he's doing the same thing you did on your first day - Remus is assessing what he already knows - strengths and weaknesses. Now come on, let's go.´

`It's best not to argue with her Harry,´ smiled Sirius as Mrs. Figg frog-marched him inside.

Malfoy gasped mid-curse, accidentally sending it through a plate-glass window, which shattered, when he saw the second Professor Lupin walk in.

The identical looks on Harry and Draco's faces would have been funny, thought Remus - if they hadn't been fear.

`It's alright,´ he quickly reassured both boys. `Easily fixed,´ he added with a quick _reparo_. `And my doppelganger's fault for not warning you. It's polyjuice Draco,´ he explained. `Harry's going to Diagon Alley and for security, it needs to appear that he's travelling with my aunt and I.´

`Who?...´ Draco managed, still looking nervous.

`Erm, well, security...´ Remus stammered. `Just know that you can trust him... well - you can trust him not to reveal that you are here anyway. Call him *_SNUFFLES*_ ` he smirked.

`Urgh,´ the fake Remus groaned. `Not going to let me live _that_ down, are you?´

`Well... maybe... _never_!´ he laughed, herding them toward the fire. `Remember, I never call her Arabella - so that'd be a dead giveaway.´

`Yes, yes.´ Sirius muttered, waving him off.

`Yeah, well, don't do anything that'll get me arrested.´

`Maybe...´ Sirius smirked wickedly, but quickly promised, rubbing his arm where Mrs. Figg had pinched him. `Auntie `Bella,´ he pouted. `So mean...´

`And I don't call her that unless...´

`Unless you're trying to get something off her - or get away with something - And mum,´ he added quickly to stop Remus´ continued instructions. `When you're distracted - I know Remus. I lived with you both remember?´

`Your aunt?´ Draco asked when they'd gone.

`Yes,´

`And - mum?´

`Yes,´ he sighed, not really wanting to explain his life to a student. `It's a long story, Draco, but she and my uncle were my guardians growing up.´

`Like Potter.´

`Not exactly - my parents are still living... At any rate - how are your shields?´ Back to the lesson - _that_ he could handle - leave the past behind.

`No shields,´ Draco muttered, his expression darkening.

`None?´ Remus raised an eyebrow.

`We don't start those until 5th year.´

`Mm-hmm,´ Remus eyed him. `You and Harry both seem to be quite a bit ahead in this subject...´

`No shields,´ Draco repeated glaring at his professor, his pale faced flushed with ire.

************

`Si- er - I mean Professor Lupin?´ Harry corrected himself quickly.

`Harry.´ Sirius grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes. `You do know how critical it is that you don't slip up?´ Harry nodded quickly, trying not to squirm. His godfather's grip wasn't overly tight on his arm, but it was directly on a bruise he'd rather not explain.

`It's not just my safety,´ Sirius went on gravely. `You, Remus, Arabella, and Dumbledore, to name just a few, could be up on charges if I'm found out.´

`I know,´ Harry said quickly. `I'm sorry _professor_, I'm sorry.´ Sirius held his gaze for a moment longer before throwing his arm around his shoulders.

`I'm sorry too Harry - I didn't mean to get cross - it's just really important that you don't forget. - Now, what were you going to ask?´

`What? - Oh, yeah, um, what are we shopping for?´

`Oh!´ Sirius´ sudden gleeful air seemed odd in Professor Lupin's body. `Well, we'll get your books for next term, and any other books you might want - I think we'll wait on new robes until later in the summer - you're still growing and they'll probably be too short by the time term started anyway.´ Sirius/Professor Lupin listed cheerfully. `Potion ingredients... maybe we'll take a boo at the Quidditch shop - get you some pocket money, lunch, and then...´ The end of the final sentence was mumbled so that Harry had to ask him to repeat it.

`You're going to meet your hand-to-hand combat instructor.´

`Hand-to-hand?!´ Harry cried. `But I can't! I'm totally weak! Except on a broom, I've got two left feet...´

`Which is why Fletch is going to start slow Harry. It's important you don't just rely on luck and magic - don't worry - he'll bulk you up a bit.´

It was a very nervous Harry who entered a private salon in the Leaky Cauldron that afternoon with Sirius and Mrs. Figg. He left his packages in the corner as Mrs. Figg gave Tom, the pub owner instructions to show Mr. Fletcher in when he arrived.

Harry'd bought enough books at Flourish and Blotts to make even Hermione proud and Sirius had bought him brand new Quidditch pads at the Quidditch shop. Not to mention enough chocolate frogs and other sweets to start his own candy shop.

Gringotts had been an experience that Harry still felt odd about. He'd expected to head to his vault to get some pocket money for the following term and enough for his new school supplies. But walking up to the counter, Sirius/Professor Lupin had produced a key from his robes and told the goblin that Harry was there to withdraw from Sirius Black's vault.

`Only the owner of the vault may enter it unless arrangements have been made,´ the goblin replied. It seemed that the goblins cared only about the ownership of the contents of the vault, and who may access it. They had no interest in the fact that the vault in question belonged to a wanted, convicted murderer. In fact, Harry'd suspected that if Sirius had walked up, undisguised and carrying his key, the goblins wouldn't have batted an eye.

`Harry here is Mr. Black's godson, and only heir,´ Sirius had explained, handing a letter across to the goblin. `And as such, he has full rights to the Black vault.´

`Very well.´ The goblin had nodded after reading the letter. `This seems to be in order. Is there anything else I can do for you today sir?´

`Yes, as long as we're here, I'd like for you to make certain that Harry Potter's Hogwarts fees are drawn from the Black vault instead of his own.´

Harry had protested, even though Sirius´ vault looked quite as full as his own - was right next to it in fact...

`Nonsense Harry,´ Sirius had insisted, filling Harry's money bag with gold. `It's Sirius´ duty - and one he insists you let him accept.´ He winked.

So it was, sitting next to piles of books, chocolate and Quidditch supplies - paid for by Sirius and his pockets full of Sirius´ gold, that Harry nibbled guiltily at his steak and kidney pie - also bought by Sirius.

`Harry - eat,´ Sirius prodded him in Professor Lupin's kind voice. Harry looked up to tell him he wasn't very hungry (he was, but he was too nervous to eat), but instead he only managed to gasp at the sight of the man coming in the salon.

He was old, grizzled and very tough looking. Harry decided immediately that he definitely didn't want to ever be on this man's bad side. He reminded Harry strongly of Professor Moody - or the man he'd thought was Professor Moody - only with fewer scars, and no missing body parts.

Following his stunned gaze, Sirius turned. `Fletch!´ he cried joyfully.

`Remus?´ the older man asked, confused. Sirius´ boisterous greeting had been quite un-Professor Lupin-like, and Harry worried for a moment - did this man know it was Sirius? Did he know Sirius was innocent?

`You'll have to forgive my nephew,´ said Mrs. Figg pushing the salon door closed and glaring at Sirius. `But he's not quite himself today - are you trying to get us all killed?!´ she whispered harshly, flicking Sirius´ ear. `With the door wide open no less!´

Sirius looked sheepishly from Mrs. Figg to the old wizard still standing just inside the salon door. It was another expression that Harry thought looked odd on his professor's face.

`Um, yes.´ Sirius recovered himself quickly, sitting up straighter and putting on a posh accent. `Very good to see you Mundungus, old chap, won't you sit down? You're well, I trust?´ His impersonation of a very proper Professor Lupin was cut short by a quick punch to the upper arm from Mrs. Figg.

`He's never spoken like that in his life!´ She glared at Sirius.

`Mum!´ Sirius cried, feigning pain and clutching at his arm. `I'm going to have a black and blue mark!´

At this, the grizzled old wizard dissolved into laughter and the result softened his hard features. `Oh, it's good to - ah - _see_ you mate!´ he laughed, clapping Sirius on the back. `It's been too long.´

Harry just stared, slack jawed at the scene before him. It took him a moment therefore, before he noticed that the man was talking to him.

`...heard about your flying ability, so we won't worry about that - you're too skinny though - you'll have to start eating more - well, no time like the present!´ He indicated Harry's forgotten lunch. `Goodness, he looks like James,´ he chuckled when Harry just continued to stare at him. `Now, Harry, have you ever handled a sword?´

`Huh?´ Harry managed, trying to work out where the man's monologue had gone.

`A sword boy,´ he repeated, not unkindly. `Have you ever handled a sword?´

`Oh, uh, just once.´ He gaped at the curious expression sent his way, and blushed furiously when Sirius took his fork, which he'd been holding halfway to his mouth since `Fletch´ had arrived, out of his hand and placed it on his plate.

`You're horrid, Fletch.´ Sirius smiled. `Harry, this is Mr. Mundungus Fletcher...´

`Fletch, call me Fletch, Harry.´ He held out his hand, which Harry took reluctantly. Fletch didn't release his arm right away, instead, he leaned in, staring directly into his eyes. `Now, tell me about this `just once´ you handled a sword,´ he asked, before finally releasing a stunned Harry.

`Bit curious about that myself,´ said Sirius in an encouraging tone.

`Er,´ Harry was finally recovering himself. `Second year - in the Chamber of Secrets. I - um - killed a Basilisk with Godric Gryffindor's sword.´ Harry felt quite sure that the stunned, pale, slack-jawed looks on the three adults´ faces more than made up for his earlier hesitation.

`Okay.´ It was Sirius who recovered first. `I think I speak for all of us when I say **_What?!_**´

`HA!´ Fletch slapped his knee, laughing when Harry'd done his best to explain the events in the Chamber of Secrets. `Amazing - terrific - absolutely, bloody _fantastic_!´

`Wait a minute, wait a minute,´ Sirius interrupted. `How did you find Gryffindor's sword? It's supposed to be under lock and key.´

`Came out of the Sorting hat.´

`Where did the sorting hat come from?´

`Fawkes brought it - and good thing too, because as I killed the Basilisk, one of its fangs got my arm. I would have died without Fawkes - his tears healed the poison.´

`Dumbledore's phoenix cried for you?!´ demanded Mrs. Figg

`Not just then either,´ Sirius replied, over the meaningful look that was passing between the three adults. `I saw him fly to Harry and heal a leg wound last month after the tournament.´

`Well,´ boomed Fletch. `The three most important aspects to defence or offence in physical combat are luck,´ he held up one finger after another. `Nerve, and skill. You've already got plenty of the first two, obviously.´ He leaned in again to wink at Harry. `Now, I'm going to help you with the third.´

Harry opened his mouth to ask how, but spotting Sirius, he could only manage one word. **_`POTION!!´_** Professor Lupin's brown hair was darkening and growing out. Sirius swore loudly, lunging for the jar of potion in his robes as Mrs. Figg leapt up to guard the door to the salon.

************

Draco looked up, dumbfounded as the old woman came through the floo, walloping the fake Professor Lupin. He stared slack-jawed, his cauldron forgotten as he listened to the tirade.

`Out of your mind!! - Haven't changed a bit - as irresponsible as ever!! - You'd think you'd have learned...´

`Arabella!´ the man cried. `I'm sorry! You can't think I meant...´

`Sorry's not good enough Sirius!´ she screeched, throwing herself at him again. `Are you trying to get us all kissed?!´

`_Mum!! - Mrs. Figg!!_´ cried the real Remus and Harry at the same time.

`Sirius?!´ choked Draco. `Sirius Black!!?´

Harry threw himself between Draco and his godfather as the real Professor Lupin managed to prise Mrs. Figg off his doppelganger.

`Poppy,´ Remus called. `Will you deal with Draco while I sort this out?´

`Yes,´ she ushered her blond pupil quickly from the room. `Came as quite a shock to me as well, but if Dumbledore says he's innocent...´ Harry heard her explaining quickly on the way out.

`What the hell is going on?´ Remus demanded. `God it's too weird talking to you looking like that,´ he pushed Sirius away from his furious aunt who was still swiping at him.

`Arabella Figg,´ he turned back to his aunt, very seriously. `Why on earth were you pummelling him like that? And in front of Harry, and Draco, and - oh - Hello Fletch, didn't see you there...´

`Sirius?´ Harry asked, concerned. Sirius was sitting dejectedly on the hearth. `Are you alright?´

`Yes,´ Sirius replied shakily. `I can't believe I holler at you to be careful, and then _I'm_ the one who screws up...´

`That's right!´ Mrs. Figg was still obviously incensed. `You're a bloody menace - and a danger to _him_,´ she motioned to Harry who gasped in shock.

`Now that was out of order!´ Professor Lupin said hotly, stepping between his aunt and a stricken looking Sirius.

Mrs. Figg glared at her nephew, her face red, her hands balled into fists. If Aunt Petunia were looking at _him_ like that, Harry would have been ducking already - maybe Mrs. Figg was more like Aunt Petunia than Harry'd thought...

`Remus...´ she growled, low and menacing, but Professor Lupin didn't flinch at all.

`Harry,´ he said, not taking his eyes off of his aunt. `Go on in the other room with Draco and Madam Pomfrey.´

`But...´ said Harry, not wanting to leave Sirius.

`Now please.´ His voice was still quiet, almost soft, and it carried no hint of aggression or anger, but every bit of the authoritative professor was nonetheless present. So, with a quick, regretful look at Sirius, Harry quietly acquiesced and ducked out of the room.

No sooner was he through the door, than it shut quickly, but quietly on its own. Harry suspected that Professor Lupin had shut it magically, and had also put a silencing charm on the room, because he could hear nothing more from inside.

He moved through to the kitchen, where Draco was being given a strong tea by a frazzled looking Madam Pomfrey. Harry was somewhat surprised to find that Draco was having such a hard time believing that Sirius was innocent. He seemed genuinely scared by the presence of the escaped prisoner.

`You didn't know that he wasn't guilty?´ Harry asked, accepting a mug of tea from Madam Pomfrey as well.

`How the hell would I have known that?´ snapped Draco. `You're sure he was never a death eater?´ he asked Madam Pomfrey.

`Yes,´ she said calmly. `He's been in constant contact with Harry for over a year and never tried anything. Besides,´ she added with the air of one about to reveal something that would seal an argument. `He's explained, under _veritaserum_ exactly what really happened - the real secret keeper, how Pettigrew escaped... Dumbledore specifically asked him if he had ever been, or helped a death eater and he said no - and there's absolutely no way he could have lied - I watched Severus make the _veritaserum_ myself, it was pure.´

Harry sat dumbfounded for a minute, his mind filling with questions, his tea growing cold. Sirius had taken _veritaserum_ to prove his innocence? Why wasn't he free then? And why was Malfoy so afraid that Sirius had been a death eater? You'd think he would be happy - his father was a death eater - wouldn't they all be friends?

`Sirius took _veritaserum_?´ Harry finally asked out loud. `But I thought Dumbledore already believed him... and shouldn't that prove his innocence to the ministry as well then?´

`Harry?´

`Sirius?´ Harry spun around, unsure if he was looking at his godfather, or Professor Lupin.

`No,´ Professor Lupin replied, looking very weary. `We thought it best if he went - ah, away...´ he glanced quickly at Draco. `Now Draco,´ he began nervously. `You have us all at a bit of a disadvantage... `Bella'd murder us if we tried to _obliviate_ you, however,´ he chuckled, but Harry noticed that he was pale, and his hands were shaking slightly. `I really don't fancy the idea of Azkaban - this may come as a surprise to you,´ he actually shuddered slightly and they saw a dark look fall over his face. `But I'm not a huge fan of Dementors...´

`Remus,´ Arabella spoke very softly, all of her anger gone. Harry noticed that the old witch wore a look of such kindness and concern as Professor Lupin turned to her, that he was reminded forcibly of how Mrs. Weasley often looked at _him_. `I sent Fletch to bring Dumbledore,´ she moved forward and placed her arm around his waist. `To help us decide what to do.´

`Good,´ he sighed, and despite the difference in their heights, he placed his arm over her shoulders and leaned down to rest his head on hers. `You know,´ he said quietly. `A memory charm...´

`No,´ she said quickly standing straight and separating from her nephew.

`It wouldn't harm him - we could be quite specific - this is information he probably doesn't want to have anyway...´

`No Remus,´ she looked up at him sternly. `I forbid it - absolutely not...

`When you're all through deciding whether or not you're going to melt my brain cells with a giant memory whammy,´ snapped Draco, glaring over his mug of tea, `you will let me know won't you? Or, no, why bother if you're just going to make me forget right?!´

`I'm sorry Draco,´ smiled Professor Lupin. `You're right...´

`Well, well,´ came Dumbledore's quiet voice from the door, causing everyone in the room to spin around. `This _is_ a bit of a pickle isn't it?´

`Oh fabulous,´ said Draco sounding exasperated. `This just keeps getting better.´ He looked up at Dumbledore. `Do you realize that these lunatics are harbouring a convicted murderer? Potter and that woman went _shopping_ with him!´ he yelled. `Worse, they all seem to be under the delusion that he's innocent! They've let him go!´ Draco was really ranting now. `He's probably already told them where I am - honestly, I'm surprised we're not surrounded by Death Eaters already...´

`He _is_ innocent you great stupid git!´ Harry shouted in return. `And if anyone is going to bring Death Eaters down on us...´

`Harry!´ Lupin cut him off warningly, laying a firm, but gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaping from his seat after Draco.

`But, sir...´ There was a note of pleading in Harry's angry voice. `His father...´

`Harry,´ Dumbledore interrupted. There was no anger - no reprimand in his voice as he spoke, indeed, the sadness that coloured his words was what captured Harry's attention. `I need to speak with Draco alone.´ Dumbledore now looked to Madam Pomfrey, Mrs. Figg and Fletch. `Please, all of you. This is fixable, but I must speak with Draco privately. Remus,´ he added as Remus moved to follow the others out. `I'd like you to stay, please.´ Remus cast a curious look at the headmaster, but quietly came back into the kitchen and sat at the table.

`Harry, please,´ Dumbledore said to Harry, who hadn't moved. `Please, give us the room.´

`But,´ Harry protested furiously. `How can you... If he gives Sirius away...´

`He won't,´ said Dumbledore firmly. `Not once he understands. Now please, step out.´ Dumbledore did not raise his voice, but, as usual, he didn't have to. That dangerous tone was still present, telling Harry that he had no choice but to obey - but that didn't mean he had to like it.

`Fine,´ he snapped, standing up so quickly that his chair hit the cupboard behind him. `Fine,´ he fumed, red faced as he stormed past the headmaster, slamming the kitchen door.

`He needs to work on his temper a bit,´ said Draco sulkily after Harry'd gone. `Right after he gets over the _confundus_ - or whatever - that's made him think that Death Eater is innocent...´

Ignoring the concerned looks on Madam Pomfrey's and Mrs. Figg´s faces, Harry tried to just storm past them all. `Harry...´ both witches tried at once to comfort him, but he was having none of it. Sick to death with being left in the dark all the time, even when it was about things that _directly_ concerned him - like why his parents had been killed... why Voldemort had such a very special need to kill Harry in particular... why on earth he had to have _Malfoy _living with _him_... and best of all, what could Dumbledore possibly say to make them trust _Malfoy_ not to land them all in Azkaban!

`_No!´_ he snapped. `Am I allowed to just go read? Or do I have to sit here and wait **not** to be told anything - **again!?**´ Almost at once, he felt stupid for snapping at them. He was usually much better at holding his tongue - very glad that no one could hear his inner dialogue. Cursing himself silently, he now stared intently at the floor, waiting to see how angry the three adults were with him, but none of them started yelling at him or anything... in fact, he distinctly heard Madam Pomfrey sniff and blow her nose.

`Sorry,´ he said, modifying his voice and tone now. `May I please go and unpack my new books and such? I'll have to leave the books here if that's alright? If Uncle Vernon spots them he'll know I've been up to something - I couldn't get them home without being spotted anyway.´

`It's alright, Harry,´ said Mrs. Figg gently. `Leave them in the Library and I'll find a spot for them for you in there.´

`Thank-you,´ he muttered and quickly left the room before his inner dialogue started getting out again.

************************

The first week of shared lessons progressed slowly for both Harry and Draco. In the mornings Professor Lupin would work with them both together on hexes and defence, then Harry would go to the back room (which was much larger than was possible for the house it was in, had it not been owned by a witch), to exercise and learn physical self-defence. It was decided that it was much more important for Draco to continue working on his shield charms than join Harry yet in the equally needed physical training.

Draco seemed to have developed a block when it came to shields, and not even the indignity of having Harry be the one to stun him had made a difference so far.

Since Draco had arrived, Snape had not been back. No one said anything, but Harry knew that this was for Snape's protection. If he were here and helping Harry learn how to fight the Dark Lord, and word got back to Voldemort by Draco telling his father...

The whereabouts of Draco's parents was not up for discussion apparently. Harry'd tried to ask him about it just once, and was shot down with a resounding `Just nose out, Potter!´

Harry'd also tried to find out what Dumbledore had said to convince Draco that Sirius was innocent, but neither Draco, nor Professor Lupin were talking. Professor Lupin had merely assured Harry that they were all safe, and that he had every confidence that Draco would keep their confidence. 

`Look, Potter,´ Draco had snapped when Harry'd asked him. `Leave me alone. So he's innocent, alright - just stop bugging me about it. I said I wouldn't tell anyone where he is and I won't. I _can_ keep my word you know.´ Harry was so taken aback by Draco's vehemence that he'd dropped the subject. He still wasn't willing to trust _Malfoy_, but as Dumbledore and Lupin were both so sure, there was nothing really he could do.

Most unfortunately, for Harry at least, Madam Pomfrey continued to come in Snape's place. She had insisted on examining him - much to his anger and annoyance.

For over half an hour, he'd answered her many questions with terse, one-word answers and shrugs. Did she _have_ to ask him about the after-effects of _Cruciatus_ right in front of Malfoy?! Even looking studiously away, Harry couldn't ignore the other boy's gasp as he overheard. _Great_, thought Harry. _I can't wait to see how he's going to use **that** against me._

`Harry,´ sighed Madam Pomfrey, annoyed with his refusal to cooperate. `The _Cruciatus_ curse can have lasting physiological effects. You took it twice, and from that...´ the mediwitch sputtered briefly. `Thing... well, as twisted and evil as you-know-who is, he's still very powerful magically, and his curse... well, I doubt if he was holding back at all.´ Harry tried desperately to pretend that Malfoy hadn't heard all that, as Madam Pomfrey looked at him seriously. `Harry, what little information _is_ known about the after-effects of _Cruciatus_ in on adults...´

Harry glared briefly at Malfoy, who quickly turned back to the book he was supposed to be reading on the other side of the room. `I'll tell you what,´ Harry turned to Madam Pomfrey, a slight grin on his face. `You start calling him by his name and stop with all this `you-know-who´ and `Dark Lord´ rubbish, and I'll answer all of your questions honestly.´

Madam Pomfrey blinked at him for a moment as Professor Lupin tried desperately not to laugh - even Malfoy looked like he was suppressing a grin.

`V...` she began, and faltered. `V...´

`Come on Madam Pomfrey, third try'll have it. _Voldemort_ - it's not even his real name.´ He smiled at her as reassuringly as possible, `you can do it.´

She gave Professor Lupin a withering look. He was still laughing silently, his shoulders shaking as he looked at Harry appreciatively.

`Go on then Poppy,´ he smiled. `He's right, it isn't his real name, so what's to be afraid of? Voldemort,´ he enunciated the word carefully, causing her to flinch again. `Draco?´ he prompted, looking to the blond wizard in the corner.

`Voldemort.´ They were all surprised at the venom in the young man's voice, but he said it.

Perhaps it was pride - not wanting to be the only one present too afraid to say it, but Poppy Pomfrey steeled herself then and took a deep breath, her eyes shut tight, `Voldemort.´ She exhaled, and actually smiled at Harry's applause. `Now then Mr. Potter,´ she eyed him haughtily. `A few _detailed_ answers, if you please.´

Harry slumped, and Professor Lupin laughed again. `You set yourself up for that I'm afraid, Harry.´

`How did you know about his real name?´ came a quiet voice from the corner. Madam Pomfrey had to hold the beginning of her interrogation as all eyes turned to Draco.

`What?´ asked the mediwitch.

`Potter,´ Malfoy's grey eyes squinted at Harry. `How did you know? It's not common knowledge.´

`He told me - his whole childhood: name, parents, orphanage... how'd you know? Cozy little fireside chat with him at home was it?´

`Harry!´ Professor Lupin scolded, looking very cross. `That was uncalled for. Apologise.´ Harry looked at him, surprised, and ready to protest, but the cross look on his professor's face, mixed with, _was that disappointment?_ caused him to duck his head guiltily.

`Sorry,´ he muttered, staring at the floor a good three feet in front of Malfoy.

`Properly,´ Lupin said in a calm voice that nevertheless clearly relayed his annoyance. Harry looked up at him briefly, unused to having his favourite teacher angry with him.

`I'm sorry,´ he said to Draco. `I shouldn't have said that. I've no reason to think that you have even met him.´ Harry made and effort not to put too much emphasis on `you´. He _did_ know that Malfoy's father _had_ met Voldemort - he was a death eater, in fact, but he really didn't like having Professor Lupin angry with him. He had been one of the few witches and wizards who had believed Harry about everything that had happened. He breathed a sigh of relief then, when the older man nodded once.

`Right then, I believe you had some questions Poppy? Come, Draco, let's leave them to it,´ he said, beckoning Draco out of the room. Harry smiled at him appreciatively, and was greatly relieved, when Professor Lupin smiled back.

He'd keep his word and answer her questions now - he didn't want to, but part of him knew he should. Still, he _really_ hadn't wanted to answer in front of Malfoy.

`Um,´ he asked looking at her nervously. `You're not going to tell anyone about what I say are you? I mean, doctor-patient stuff is confidential, right?´

`No, Harry, I'm sorry,´ she smiled at him sadly. `Accidental stuff at school is one thing, but this is serious. The kinds of dark magicks you've been exposed to are nothing to take lightly. I'll need to talk to Dumbledore to consult on some of the effects - and your guardians will have to be informed...´

`No!´ Harry said firmly. `You can't tell the Dursleys. They don't understand about magic and they... don't like it.´ That wasn't a lie exactly - it _grossly_ underrepresented how they felt about magic, but... `I'm sorry Madam Pomfrey, but if you're going to tell the Dursleys, I can't answer.´

Madam Pomfrey looked at him appraisingly for a moment before slowly nodding. `Alright,´ she said softly. `Not the Muggles, but Harry, you're a minor - I'll have to at least, tell your godfather then.´ Harry looked down, any relief he felt at her agreeing not to speak to his aunt and uncle smothered by his worry for his godfather.

`I wish you wouldn't tell him anything either,´ he groaned. `He worries too much about me already - last year he risked capture by coming all the way back to Scotland just because my scar twinged a bit.´

`It's good for you to have someone to worry about you.´ She levelled her best matronly stare on him. `And make you mind for a change,´ she smiled kindly at Harry's worried expression. `Now, Harry, are you a wizard of his word, or not?´

Reluctantly, Harry answered all of her questions properly then. He admitted to the nightmares, and their frequency, though he tried to downplay how bad the really were. He wouldn't have even thought to mention that he woke from them feeling sore and stiff all over though, if she hadn't asked specifically.

`But it's nothing like it was for real - after it actually happened,´ he said earnestly, even knowing that it was useless to hope she wouldn't worry.

`Have you had any other dreams?´ she asked him.

Fidgeting, Harry admitted to the occasional dreams where Cedric and all of his friends blamed him for killing them. `But it's only a dream Madam Pomfrey - I know that,´ he added, fearing that she might cart him off to St. Mungo's mental ward.

`I'm glad you realize that - and the more you believe the _truth_ Harry,´ she made him meet her gaze, `that you truly aren't to blame - the less frequent those type of dreams will become. However,´ she sighed sadly. `I was referring to the dreams I'm told you occasionally have where you see _him_. - oh alright, _Voldemort_,´ she managed. `Where your scar hurts you?´

`Oh,´ said Harry, definitely fidgeting now. `No, not yet - I, er, suppose it's too much to hope that it won't happen again though...´

`I'm afraid so Harry,´ she muttered, waving her wand around his forehead. `If you've had them before, there's no reason to suppose you won't continue to have to...´ she broke off uncomfortably.

`To have to occasionally have a ring-side seat through my dreams into Voldemort's sitting room?´ he finished, failing to hide the venom in his voice.

`Now Harry,´ the school nurse grew stern again. `Unlike previous years, I expect you to contact me directly the next time it happens. This summer, owl _me_ first. _I_ will contact Dumbledore and Sirius. This is very important Harry,´ she interrupted his protests. `And your godfather will agree. Yes, they need to know the details of your visions, but I must be able to assess you right after - while your scar is still hurting, if possible. I don't like the possible implications of you still having it aching all the time and hurting more others. Am I clear?´ Harry grudgingly agreed. `And that goes for once school is in as well,´ she went on even more sternly. `You will have open permission to leave your dormitory or class to come immediately to the hospital wing in the event that you either have a vision **_or_** your scar hurts you.´ She then levelled her sternest glare on Harry, pointing accusingly. `If I, for one moment suspect that you've hidden the fact that your scar has hurt in any way, I **will** have you confined to the infirmary. And don't, for a second, think that I can't - or won't.´ she added to his wide stare.

`Yes, Miss,´ he stammered, truly believing that she'd do it.

**************

`Oops,´ said Harry, trying not to grin at the sight of an unconscious Malfoy, laying on the floor in Mrs. Figg's sitting room. `Sorry, Professor,´ he said, unable to meet Lupin's eyes for fear of smirking. `Didn't mean to hex him so hard...´

`Well,´ replied Remus, not sounding like he particularly believed him. `You did, now you may as well practice the reviving charm. Not from there!´ he cried when Harry raised his wand preparing to do the charm from across the room. `You have to touch him with the wand, or you just shock him.´ _Hmmm,_ thought Harry. _Good information to have for the future..._

`Bloody hell, bugger and damnation,´ said Malfoy bitterly when he woke up to Harry crouching over him, unsuccessfully trying not to smirk. `Er, sorry,´ Draco mumbled as Professor Lupin cleared his throat loudly and Mrs. Figg clucked from the door. `It's his fault,´ he glared, red faced at Harry. `He knew I wasn't ready...´

`Yeah,´ Harry muttered under his breath. `It has nothing to do with you sucking at shields. Draco,´ he said louder. `A death eater won't revive you to give you a second chance to get ready.´ Remus suppressed a smile, wondering if Harry realized he was quoting almost word for word what _he'd_ told him, when he was having trouble focusing on his own shields.

`Look,´ said Harry offering his hand to pull the other boy up. `It's one of two things.´ He shrugged when Malfoy ignored his proffered hand and sat up on his own. `Either you've just convinced yourself you can't do it - thereby making sure you can't, or you're just trying too hard and messing yourself up.´

`What makes you say that Harry?´ Lupin asked, impressed. He'd come to the same conclusion himself, but was curious as to how Harry'd acquired this insight.

`Um, well,´ he stammered, blushing as he always did in class when caught knowing the answer to a difficult question.

`I think you're right Harry,´ Remus smiled. `I was just curious about what made you say so.´

`Well,´ Harry frowned, trying to find the right words. `It's like - when I had trouble last year with _accio_ - it was like this, I was completely blocked. No idea why, but I just couldn't manage it. I got it eventually, obviously, but I think the trouble was that I was convinced that I couldn't do it, see?´ He looked at his professor, studiously avoiding Malfoy's glare. `And remember when I was trying to learn the _patronus_ charm? In the classroom, I was useless, but first at the Quidditch match, and then when I _really_ needed it against all those Dementors...´ he shuddered briefly. `I did it - no problem. I think - I think it was because I didn't have time to think about it too much - I just did it without concentrating too hard on what I was doing... I'm sorry,´ he sighed. `I'm not making any sense, am I?´

`On the contrary, Harry.´ Remus had trouble concealing the pride in his voice. `You're making perfect sense - and you're dead on as well. Draco,´ he turned to his other student, who was now leaning sulkily against the sofa. `You have to really believe that you can do this - no, you have to _know_ that you can do it - and then, just do it. We'll leave it here for today, but starting tomorrow, expect sneak attacks from me, `Bella - anyone who's here - except you Harry,´ he added quickly, smirking at Harry's disappointed look. `We'll catch you off your guard and eventually, you'll manage it without thinking.´

`Sir,´ asked Harry quickly. `Would it be alright if we don't head back to my aunt and uncles right away? They're not expecting us until around 5, and I was reading some really good books in Mrs. - your aunts library, and I haven't even been able to really _look_ at most of the books I got last week in Diagon Alley.´

`Certainly, Harry,´ he smiled. `I have to go, but I'll tell `Bella where you both are. Find her when you're ready to leave - you're not to walk home on your own.´

`Yes, sir. Hey,´ he called to Lupin's retreating back. `Say hi to Sirius for me?´

`Oh, that reminds me...´ Remus frowned, digging into his pocket. `Sorry, I wanted to keep it until after your lessons so as not to distract you. See you tomorrow.´ He tossed Harry a roll of parchment and left.

Harry chose to ignore the continuing glare Malfoy was sending his way and made his way to Mrs. Figg´s well apportioned library. Harry had definitely decided that when he grew up, assuming that Voldemort didn't finally manage to kill him, he _had_ to have a wizard house. Though from the outside, Mrs. Figg´s house looked the same size as the Dursleys, it was easily three times as big once you got inside. Even the front hall, living room and kitchen (the only rooms Harry'd been in as a child) didn't betray the house's true dimensions.

With a furtive glance at the door, Harry grabbed the book he'd been reading earlier as well as one of his new books for next term and settled into one of the overstuffed chairs in a corner of the room. Opening his school book, he placed it behind the other book and then opened the letter from Sirius, placing it in front of all:

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you doing? I'm sorry I haven't been back since that fiasco at the pub, and young Malfoy finding out about me. Everyone thought it a good idea to give him a little bit to get used to the idea before I came back as myself. From what Dumbledore and Remus tell me though, I really do think we can trust him not to try and get me arrested, so don't worry about it._

_More importantly, how are you feeling? Are you sleeping any better? Was Madam Pomfrey able to give you anything to help? You know, she was the school nurse when I was at Hogwarts as well. I understand your concern about her fussing over you - she did the same with me, though, in all honesty, I gave her nearly as much reason to fuss as you have! Just remember, her heart is always in the right place and she genuinely cares about the students in her care - ex-prisoners as well. Trust her, she really is that good._

_At any rate, the school nurse isn't the reason I asked Remus to give you a note from me. I'll be there tomorrow to show you and Draco a couple of potions that Poppy doesn't know how to brew - and to see how you're coming with your training with Fletch. He's been reporting high praise for your efforts, and coming from him - that's a lot. I can't wait to see how you're doing._

_See you tomorrow!_

_Love,_

_Sirius_

_P.S.: Don't tell Draco that I'm coming. It'll be a surprise. I really don't think that he'd report me, but there's no need to be careless._

Harry smiled brightly at the news that he'd see Sirius the next day. He also felt a spark of pride that Fletch had said he was doing well with his training. Truth be told, Harry thought he was useless at the physical combat stuff, and the training so far seemed to be only teaching him how many different ways he could be knocked on his behind. Still, he hadn't been knocked out for the last two days; he supposed that that must be progress.


	3. To the manor borne

**Title:** Enemy Mine (03/?)  
**Author name:** Alia / Sever Us   
**Category:** Drama  
**Sub Category:** Action/Adventure   
**Rating:** PG-13   
**Summary:** Enemies, friends, pain, redemption? Harry must come to terms with the horrors he's witnessed and experienced – but how? Reprieves are tempered with added misery, but an unwelcome house guest is the least of Harry's troubles. Plotting death eaters, an angry and vengeful dark lord, a swarm of Veela, a godfather's innocence to prove, muggle relatives that just won't go away and what's this about a pesky prophesy?! All this plus Quidditch, new classes and responsibilities, the best Christmas ever and … girls!  
**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.   
**Author notes:** This chapter is a bit darker than previous chapters. Things will be difficult for the next few chapters before lightening up again. It's all part of the journey, so please hang in there.

Thank-you to Lenore with the red pen!

**Answers to Reviews: THANK-YOU! Chapter four is up on Fiction Alley now (May 19) and was up at the Yahoo! Group yesterday (click on my author name for info on the group). I'll post chapter four here soon. Thanks! What's up with Draco and Lucius… all will be made clear… mwa ha ha! Keep reading :D**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter 3: _In My Enemy's House Part Two: To the Manor Borne. _**

'Oh, God.' Malfoy rolled his eyes as they entered Mrs. Figg's the next day, and were met with a beaming Sirius, who rushed over to hug Harry. 'Fabulous, it's you.'

Ignoring the sarcastic drawl, Sirius drew his godson into the back living room where three caldrons were set up with magical flames crackling beneath them.

With a long-suffering sigh, Draco followed. 'I can't believe I'm about to be taught potions by this man,' he moaned petulantly under his breath.

'Yes, well...' Sirius glared at him briefly, having heard that last comment. 'There'll be no lesson with Remus today, as this potion takes several hours to brew, and you'll have to monitor it closely. If it's not done properly, it'll have the opposite effect to what we're brewing it for... what we're going to attempt is an age-old Auror trick - a shield potion.' Draco finally looked up at that, and Sirius bit back a smile. 'This potion acts much as your shield charm does, only in potion form, and will even protect you if you're separated from your wand. Plus, it has the added benefit of shielding you from most minor and moderate hexes - depending on how you brew it, and the dose you take - until it wears off, not just for the one hex.'

'Wow,' muttered Harry, looking over the array of ingredients spread around the caldrons. 'How long does it last?' Draco glanced inquisitively at Sirius as well, clearly intrigued by the potential for this potion.

'Well, again, it depends on your skills at brewing and the dosage... but anywhere from ten minutes to a few hours. For your first try, I should be very happy if you both manage the ten minute variety, but the longest one of my potions has managed to last at maximum dosage was just under four hours. How the variation?' he asked to the boys' curious looks. 'This isn't a straight-out potion like you'll have been taught so far in school... there are some potions that require incantations and charms at specific intervals. The power you put into those parts of the brewing process, and how perfectly you can inflect the speaking of the charm, will magnify the end result.'

Even though the potion they were working on was immensely complex, and they had to practice the incantations over and over so they could dip the ends of their wands into the simmering potion at _exactly_ the right moment to actually cast them, learning potions from Sirius was... fun. There was no other word for it.

Sirius obviously _loved_ brewing potions. He got positively giggly when both Harry and Draco's potions turned bright green at precisely the time they were supposed to, and praised them both when they pronounced their incantations correctly.

When Snape had been teaching him - even when it was just the two of them here at Mrs. Figg's and the professor wasn't going out of his way to be nasty - Harry always had the impression that the potions master was just waiting for him to do something wrong.

Madam Pomfrey was an altogether different case... she hovered over the boys, prompting them whether they needed it or not. It seemed as if she were just barely restraining herself from just shooing them out of the way so she could take over and make sure things were done properly.

But Sirius - he told them what needed to be done, and seemed to have every confidence that they'd do it right. His joy that every step worked properly wasn't even limited to his students' potions... he actually cheered when his own potion turned green right after Harry and Draco's had.

Still, Harry was nervous when it came time to test their concoctions by drinking a dose (one goblet for Harry and Draco - the maximum for a juvenile, and two for Sirius - the maximum for an adult) and preparing to hex each other.

'Remember, if there was any mistake, at any point during the preparation, the opposite effect will take place and the hex will be much _stronger_ than normal. Start with _Impedimenta_ - if there's any problem, it'll only mean that you'll stop completely instead of just slowing down, and there's no chance of anyone getting hurt. Draco,' Sirius turned to Malfoy. 'You go first and hex Harry... be careful though, if the potion's worked, it'll rebound. Be ready to duck.'

Twenty minutes later, Sirius pulled Draco to his feet and brushed him off a bit. 'You're alright... I'm impressed. That's twice as long as I expected either of your shields to last.' He gave them both a wide smile. 'Now, it's your turn... I think Harry's might have a few more minutes yet - he got a slightly better roll of the 'r' in _Protectivus_ when he said it. Well go on!'

Draco, who had been scowling at having overbalanced and fallen over when Harry's _Impedimenta_ curse had been lifted by Sirius, now grinned as he levelled his wand on Harry. '_Impedimenta_!' he bellowed - ineffectively, against Harry at least. The spell bounced off of him, ricocheted off of Sirius and hit Mrs. Figg dead on as she walked into the room with a tray of tea and biscuits.

Draco and Harry gaped at her in horror and even Sirius looked a little pale as he rushed to her aid. Her eyes had fixed in surprise as she froze on the spot.

'Oops,' Sirius murmured with a guilty look. 'Sorry about that Arabella.' He took the tray from her hands and handed it to Harry, before telling them both to back up while he uttered the counter-curse. He caught the older woman quickly, before she fell on her face. 'Sorry,' he muttered again. 'Their potions are lasting longer than I expected!' Mrs. Figg looked at the two students with interest, as Sirius continued. 'Draco's just failed after nineteen minutes and Harry's is still going strong after twenty... Draco's curse bounced off him, then me and then hit you. You alright?'

'Of course I am,' she retorted indignantly, standing up and straightening her robes. 'Just put the tray down here Harry.' She indicated the table. 'It's time for a snack, and I have letters for you.'

'But Arabella!' Sirius couldn't hide his disappointment. 'His potion hasn't failed yet... we have to keep testing every minute until it does - and there's no use threatening me,' he added to her glare, 'because I took a dose as well. So you can't curse me for a while yet.'

'In between curses you can have some tea, and he can read his letters. What's your record again?' She smiled at Sirius as she poured out the tea.

'Three hours, fifty-six minutes,' he smirked accepting his tea. 'This won't last quite that long - I wasn't concentrating very hard on mine. Too busy making sure they got theirs right.'

Harry stopped listening as he opened a letter from Hermione. It contained what appeared to be a folded-up clipping from the Daily Prophet... apprehensive, he decided to read the letter first to see if it warned of whatever horrible thing the paper had printed about him now. Images of dreadful headlines had been dancing through his nightmares ever since the third task. Things like: _Harry Potter Murdered Cedric Diggory... Harry Potter __Mad.__.. Sirius Black Captured... Dementors Kiss Performed... Dark Lord kills Weasley family.... _

Preparing himself for the worst then, he opened Hermione's letter and read:

_Dear Harry,_

_Just a quick note. I wasn't sure if your subscription_

_had started yet or not, but I thought you should see_

_this. Please believe that more people support and believe_

_you and Dumbledore than don't._

_Be well, I'm so jealous of the extra lessons you're getting!_

_You're going to have a great head start on your O.W.L.'s_

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

Now both confused and nervous, Harry picked up the clipping, but was stopped by Sirius' announcement that it was time to test his shield again. Draco smiled evilly as he pointed his wand at Harry and uttered the curse... 'Twenty-one.' Harry couldn't help but smirk as the shield held, and Draco's grin faded into disappointment. 'We haven't tested yours for a few minutes Sirius.'

'Oooh!' Mrs. Figg squealed. 'Let me - oh please, boys. Let me be the one to curse him... you have _no idea_,' she levelled her wand on him with a grin almost as wicked as Malfoy's, 'how much trouble he was! Harry, one of these days I'm going to tell you some of the things he did to try and drive me to an early grave that year that he lived with us - and the trouble he always got Remus into at school... _Impedimenta!_' She laughed when the hex bounced off of him. 'Well, I'm glad it was deflected - but you have can't imagine, Sirius, how gratifying it was for me to say it!'

While Sirius joined her laughter, pointing out the deep-seated psychological implications of her desire to hex him, Harry turned, smiling back to the discarded newspaper clipping.

**We Love Harry Potter Too!**

**Now stop sending us Howlers!!**

By Emma Beat

We haven't heard from Rita Skeeter in

ages, but fearing the complete destruction

of our offices by the hundreds of Howlers

we've been getting, we won't be printing

anymore of her articles against Harry

Potter. SO STOP SENDING US HOWLERS!

Furthermore, although we have a firm

Policy against printing any form of retraction,

we hope that the following selections of our

readers comments will stem the flow of cursed,

jinxed, poisoned, Howler, and other nasty

post. The Daily Prophet will never take any

political sides, but we would like to say that we

have nothing against Harry Potter - he seems

like a nice kid.

*****

_"I don't care if he **is** a parselmouth - he could_

_have a pet Basilisk for all I care - it's thanks to_

_him we had nearly 14 years of peace. And now_

_that_ You-Know-Who_ is back _**(the Daily Prophet**

**does not confirm or deny the return of _You-_**

**_Know-Who_****) **_anyone with half a brain knows_

_he's surely our only hope."_

_*****_

_"Not only is he totally snoggable and a complete_

_hotty - only the truly mental would think that he_

_was mental! That Rita Skeeter doesn't go to_

_school with him - we do. So you can tell her to_

_shove her quill..._

(Harry's face was glowing scarlet as he read that this letter had been submitted by _"A consortium of 3rd-7th form girls at Hogwarts._) 

They were all like this, Harry noted, his blush deepening the more he read. Every nasty lie that Rita Skeeter had written about him was refuted - vehemently - by a great many witches and wizards (though more witches than wizards)...

'Good heavens Harry.' Sirius looked at him oddly. 'You could fry an egg on your face! What _are_ you reading? Nothing - um - _naughty_ I hope.' He grinned, reaching over and easily taking the clipping from Harry's numb fingers. '_Oh - My - God! '_Sirius erupted into gales of laughter after reading the article. Mrs. Figg snatched the paper from Sirius as he literally clutched at his side... Harry's face burned hotter and hotter as he heard Sirius mutter between guffaws '**_pet Basilisk... snoggable!!..._**_ **complete hotty!!**_'

'Sirius!' Mrs. Figg admonished, but Harry noted that she was having to work very hard not to laugh as well... her mouth twitched, and her shoulders shook. Eventually, Draco had got his hands on the article and soon all three were howling. Harry just hid his face in his hands praying for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

'My godson,' Sirius said finally, coming over and enveloping Harry in a good natured hug. 'The ladies' man...' He grinned, but then he leaned in close and whispered in his ear for only Harry to hear: 'You're not alone Son. More believe in you than in Fudge. Hold onto that.'

****************

Harry was the last one down to breakfast on Sunday.

Seeing Sirius the day before had been great. Much to his guardian's joy, Harry's shield potion had lasted nearly twenty-five minutes... and, when Fletch had demonstrated all of the various ways in which he could knock Harry on his bum - Sirius flinched every time, but still told him he was proud of how hard he was working.

Harry had now officially survived his first full week of having to share a room with Malfoy without major incident at home... oh, Malfoy had deliberately annoyed Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon a few times, and he seemed to take great pleasure in sending Dudley into screaming fits with his practiced Slytherin glares... but Harry'd managed to escape with little more than threats and a few good smacks.

All in all then, Harry was in a rather upbeat mood as he made his way into the kitchen... he should have known it was too good to last...

As he choked down his allotted breakfast - skimmed milk and corn flakes - while trying to ignore his cousin and Malfoy, Harry looked up just in time to see Dudley snatch up something from Malfoy's plate. '**_NO!_**' he cried, recognizing what it was, but far too late... in one swift motion, Dudley had swallowed the _Canary Cream_ whole.

The beefy boy began to gag and sputter almost instantly, but Harry didn't stay around to watch his doom unfold - in a panic he fled the room, and then, losing his head completely, he bolted up the stairs, Malfoy on his heels.

'Are you _mad_?!' he screamed as Malfoy staggered into their room, nearly convulsed with laughter. 'The wards ...'

'Oh, that doesn't count... it won't set them off. Passive magic.' Draco choked. 'Besides, it was _hilarious!_ Biggest bird I've ever seen!' Oblivious to the shouts coming from downstairs, Draco laughed harder, clutching at his side.

Harry, though, was completely colourless, and grabbing Malfoy by the shirt, he shoved him hard against the wardrobe. 'When he comes in here, _get out_.'

Taken aback by Potter's murderous expression, Draco stopped mid-chuckle and watched in slack-jawed surprise as Harry let go of him and dove under the bed.

The next second, the bedroom door burst open, and Vernon Dursley charged into the room.

Draco was suddenly struck by how very _large_ this Muggle actually was... the mad glint in the man's eyes and many shades of rage discolouring his face made Draco suddenly wonder if he weren't quite as dangerous - even without magic - as your average Death Eater.

'Where is he?!' demanded the mad Muggle. Finding himself voiceless, for the first time in his life, Draco just gaped. _I'm actually afraid of a **Muggle**_! he thought wildly. He didn't even resist as the enraged man shoved him hard away from the wardrobe to look inside.

'_Malfoy!'_ Harry hissed angrily from under the bed. '_Get out!'_ The Muggle heard him, and, bellowing like a mad hippogriff, he lunged at the bed, pulling Harry roughly out from under it by his hair. Harry cried out involuntarily and his uncle hit him hard enough to send him flying back onto the mattress.

'**_Get out!_**' Harry and Dursley both shouted but Draco was frozen to the spot... paralysed by, he didn't know what... fear? Shock? Finally, the Muggle grabbed his arm and shoved him from the room, yelling at him to go downstairs and leave his Dudley alone, before slamming the door in Draco's face.

He tried to run away... to close his ears... to not hear the furious man hit Harry again and again and again on the other side of the door... to not listen to the grunts of pain and exertion ...

_I hate Harry don't I?_ Draco asked himself. _Stupid Potter... has everything handed to him - **even this**_, said a niggling voice in the back of his mind.

Was this pity? he wondered? Empathy? Dully, he wished he could at least close his mouth and remove the look of horror he knew must be on his face as he stared blankly at the closed door, hearing what was unmistakably a body thudding against the wall... But there was nothing he could do to stop it - _even if you wanted to_ - sneered that comfortingly nasty voice in the back of his brain... but he was built just like Harry. A natural seeker: wiry, small, fast - but no match in a physical fight with a brute like this Muggle.

It would have been so easy with magic, but he couldn't - the wards ... Would it be worth setting off the wards and bringing Ministry witches and wizards to stop this? Surely this would be a reasonable exception to the underage rule - but then the Ministry would know that he was here... And not everyone at the Ministry was to be trusted ...

Draco was still paralysed by his indecision when it was finally over... had it been seconds? Minutes? Hours? He wasn't sure...

He heard the fat Muggle speaking through the door: 'I don't care about your godfather, boy... _if he even really exists_. The next time you, or any other freak friend of yours, decides to pull something like that on _my_ son, I'll kill you.' Stunned and afraid, Draco finally managed to unstuck his feet from the floor and he hurried across the hall into the bathroom, turning around in the doorway just in time to see the Muggle march out of Harry's room and send a hate-filled glare in his direction.

'Sorry,' Draco managed, pasting on a polite smile, hoping Dursley didn't realise that he'd been listening. 'Had to go to the loo... shall I go downstairs now?' He braced himself as the menacing figure advanced on him. Was he next? _Maybe I should have run..._

'You'd just better nose out of things that are none of your affair boy,' he snarled grabbing Draco's arm and propelling him across the hall to Harry's room. 'And stay the hell away from my son!'

Draco spotted Harry by the window as the Muggle shoved him in the room, then slammed and locked the door from the outside. The dark-haired boy was facing away, his stance stiff and unnatural.

'Harry?' Draco asked, his voice croaking slightly - he noticed suddenly how odd it sounded to hear his voice speak Potter's Christian name _Harry_? Had he ever called him that before?

Harry tensed, starting slightly before he slowly turned around. The vulnerable look disappeared instantly once he located the source of the voice, to be replaced by a glare. 'Piss off.'

'Well, I would... but the stupid Muggle seems to have locked the door.' Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to summon a smirk, but failing miserably. 'Are you alright?'

'Fine Malfoy.' Harry replied, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. 'Just peachy.' He winced suddenly, before turning back to the window.

'Yeah, right. You're just fine...'

Harry sighed after a moment. 'Under the bed...' His voice was unutterably weary. 'There's a loose floorboard...' Overcome with a fit of the shakes he slowly lowered himself to the floor with a groan, his eyes shut and his jaw tight.

Not knowing exactly why he was being nice to Harry Potter - T_he-Boy-He-Hated_ and had hated as long as he'd known him (longer actually) - Draco prised up the floorboard and saw instantly what Harry was after.

Wizard chocolate might taste exactly the same as Muggle chocolate, but unlike the Muggle variety, it had powerful healing and restorative properties. Harry struggled in vain with the packages before Draco took them from his trembling hands and opened them.

Four chocolate frogs later, Harry looked a little more coherent and he wasn't shaking nearly as much. 'Thanks,' he managed finally.

'Wow' smirked Malfoy, regaining a bit of his own equilibrium. 'That must have been really hard to say.'

Harry looked like he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all as he attempted to pick up the remaining chocolates, but seemed to think better of it.

'What _are_ you doing?'

'They can't see these ...' He winced as he tried to reach the discarded chocolate wrappers.

'Just leave it.' Draco snapped, and once again moved inexplicably to help The-Boy-He-Hated. 'I'll get them.' He cast a sidelong glance at Harry as he stashed the chocolate evidence back under the bed 'Are you going to get up? Or are you planning to stay there all day?'

'Eventually...' Harry muttered shifting his weight slowly.

Draco instantly recognized what he was doing... moving everything to assess the damage ... wincing when he found a badly-bruised muscle, grimacing as he moved a joint through the pain to make sure it wasn't broken ... _How many times have I done that_ _until Mum or one of the house elves came to heal me..._ 'Isn't anyone coming to heal you?'

This time Harry did laugh, and instantly seemed to regret it 'No.'

Draco knew that Muggles didn't have house elves, for things like this, but if she could, his mother would always help him when his father was done. 'What about your aunt?' She didn't seem especially fond of her nephew, but surely, Draco thought, she'd come and clean him up? Check for damage?

'Don't be ridiculous.' Harry frowned as he struggled to stand up.

'How long are they going to leave that door locked?' It was all Draco could do to stop himself from reaching out and steadying the other boy; instead, he let him alone, not sure why he felt compelled to allow him this small measure of dignity.

'All day,' Harry answered tonelessly as he made his careful way to his bed.

**_Damn it..._** Draco's emotions were perilously close to the surface right now, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep them in check. How the hell was he supposed to deal with this? He needed to get out of here, away from Potter, away from the reminders... Taking a couple of calming breaths, he squashed the panic, and affected his usual bored drawl. 'Oh, terrific. What am I supposed to do until supper then?'

'Breakfast - if we're lucky,' Harry corrected. Very carefully, he laid down on his bed, turning his back to Draco. 'I don't care... do your homework, read a book, pick your nose ...'

'Breakfast?!' _Oh Merlin, he was going to go into screaming hysterics by then..._

'Malfoy -'

'Potter -' It came out harsher than Draco intended, and he saw Harry's back stiffen.

'If you ever tell a soul about any of this ...' The warning in Potter's voice was unmistakable.

'I know, I know.' Draco pushed a frustrated hand through his hair, letting his own anger take control. This he understood, this he could deal with. 'You'll hex me into a pile of slime on the train... blah, blah... I've got it Potter!'

'I'm serious Malfoy.' Harry's voice took on an almost desperate edge, laced with rage. '**You** did this... you gave him that _Canary Cream_. That was completely insane. Deliberately annoying them is one thing... I do it too. It's fun to a point, but ...' He paused and sucked in a quivering breath. 'If one single person finds out about this ...'

'Fine, Potter,' Draco sneered. 'Your secret's safe with me.' _If you only knew how good I am with secrets like this ... He_ didn't intend to say anything more, but curiosity got the better of him. 'I don't understand _why_ you don't tell though...' His tone was mocking, ugly. 'Practically the whole wizarding world would be tripping over themselves to rescue_ you_.'

'Like you said, you don't understand ...' Harry mumbled as he pulled his pillow over his head.

Draco was pretty sure Harry was crying - he made no sound, didn't even move, but Draco knew from many silent tears shed himself that that was what he was doing ... Gripping the pillow tightly over his head ... his whole body tense ... laying very still to keep from feeling the bruises Draco knew must be forming ...

Overcome by a sickening sense of familiarity, Draco stifled the noise that threatened to burst from his throat as he backed against the wall... _He is me_ he thought desperately _I am him_... A sudden wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he slid quietly to the floor.

He sat there swallowing bile - he didn't know how long - watching the path of the sunlight from the window as it stretched across the room. His back was to the wall, his arms limp at his sides, legs spread recklessly in front of him...

_I hate him - always have - he is against everything I stand for ... everything **Father** stands for ..._

Images swirled in his mind, mixing, combining, getting confused ...

A large man, tall and thick, swinging a broomstick handle - grunting with the effort of hitting an underweight, not quite fifteen-year-old, small for his age, dark-haired boy ... the boy does not resist, he does not cry out - nothing - he did nothing - evincing only the barest occasional grunt as a particularly brutal swing hits its mark...

A large man, tall and thin, swinging an ornamental cane - grunting with the effort of beating a not quite fifteen-year-old, small for his age, blond-haired boy...

Had he and Harry both learned the same lessons? Make no noise ... do not resist ... the more you remind him that you feel anything, the more he'll make you feel it ...

Above all, _never let him see you cry_. Pillows were for more than resting your head on. They were for covering your tears, for muffling your screams as you lay alone ... in pain. They were for tearing to shreds when you couldn't take one more minute .....

**_Worthless Freak!!_** The Muggle had screamed as he'd flung his nephew across the room ... _for something he hadn't even done..._

**_Worthless excuse for a wizard! _**Lucius had snarled, time and again, raising that cane...

_I am him - he is me_ ... he repeated to himself. We're total opposites - _how can I be so like someone I hate?_

**_NO!_** He thought vehemently, giving himself a mental shake. _We are not alike - Dark and Light - Light and Dark ..._

'Ah...' He noticed the travelling sunlight reflect one round lens some time later. 'That's where his glasses went.'

Finding, with only slight surprise that he could, in fact, still command his arms and legs to do his bidding, he crawled quietly to where the glasses lay in two neat pieces against the opposite wall.

**********

'Bugger!' Draco cursed quietly for about the 15th time. 'Dammit - how are you supposed to ...?' He tried in vain to shake off the Sellotape which had somehow wrapped itself around his fingers instead of the glasses frame.

About half an hour ago now, when he'd finally come out of his little stupor and found Harry's glasses, he had been compelled by some unknown impulse to mend them as their owner slept.

_It's not because I feel bad_, he tried to convince himself. _It's not my fault that Muggle is a raging lunatic_ -_ but you did set him off _- _shut-up you!_ he told the unwelcome - and unprecedented voice in his mind.

_You knew he'd take it out on Harry_ - _not like that_ - _doesn't matter_ - _didn't I tell you to shut-up_ ... This bizarre inner dialogue continued for some time, even after he'd finally managed to successfully reconnect the two halves of Harry's glasses and place them quietly on the nightstand... to distract himself, he turned to his homework for Lupin:

_'You're lost and alone. There is no one you can ask for help._

_Name three things you can do with magic to find your way to help._

_What if you don't have your wand?_

_Name three things you can do without magic to find your way to help.'_

'Urg... this is worse than my tutors...' Draco grumbled softly.

'Point-Me.' He jumped at the sound of Harry's voice.

'What?!' he snapped, annoyed that the other boy had overheard.

Harry examined the repair job on his glasses, shrugged and put them on. 'Point-Me - the _Four Point_ spell. You hold your wand flat in your hand and say '_Point-Me_' and it'll point to North - you know,' he almost smiled as he slowly stood up. 'If you're lost...'

*************

'Urg...' groaned Remus Lupin upon entering his kitchen and spotting Sirius sitting, chuckling to himself at the scrubbed wooden table. Since returning to his friend's home the day before, Sirius had been in a constant _if slightly annoying_ state of joy. 'Did you even sleep?'

'A little.' Sirius beamed. 'It's just...'

'I know, I know...' Remus smiled in spite of himself. 'You got to spend time with Harry yesterday.'

'Yeah...' He grinned stupidly, unable to stop himself. 'It's just... He's such a great kid! And _smart_ Remus!'

'I know - thank God, he took after Lily...'

'It felt so good to spend some real time with him when I wasn't all ragged and filthy...' He faltered, his expression darkening as he recalled the few times he and his godson had been face to face since he'd escaped from Azkaban.

'I'm sure he enjoyed it too,' Remus cut into his thoughts, 'even with Draco there.'

'I feel like less of a failure - seeing how well he's turned out, you know?' He smiled yet again - he couldn't help himself, James' son just had that effect on him. 'He's just perfect...'

'I wouldn't go that far!' Remus snorted, then smiled placatingly at his friend's glare. 'He is a _great_ kid.' He added seriously. 'Curious, smart, brave, polite... but perfect?' He sighed, sitting down and reaching for the sugar for his tea. 'Don't put that kind of pressure on him. He does,' he chuckled, looking back at Sirius, 'have a certain inherited, shall we say - propensity - to rule breaking... Regardless of the possible consequences...'

'You think?' asked Sirius, seriously. 'I thought he seemed a bit more cautious than we were...'

'Oh, he is,' Remus assured him. 'Not much choice, really, with how closely he's watched. But do you realize that he somehow managed to get his hands on the _Marauders Map_ - and use it to sneak out of the castle when he thought you were trying to kill him?'

'He _didn't_!' Sirius blanched. Even knowing that _he_ had never been a threat to Harry, there _were_ many out there who were, and who would take any opportunity to harm him.

'Actually.' Remus sighed, sipping his tea. 'The things he usually does against the rules tend to be even more dangerous than the rubbish we got up to at school, and _usually_, his motives for breaking a rule are considerably better than ours ever were...' Remus smiled, remembering some of the pranks they pulled. 'He actually goes out of his way to avoid mischief... for the most part, his rule breaking tends to end up leading directly to him saving the world... saving a life...'

Sirius nodded soberly for a minute before a grin forced its way onto his face. 'How'd he get the map off of Filch?'

Remus laughed heartily at the mischievous glint in his friends' eyes. 'No idea. I didn't ask - I was too busy yelling at him and trying to get my heart started again to think about that! It was Snape,' he said, to Sirius' curious look. 'He caught him just after he'd snuck back into the castle. He knew he'd been to Hogsmeade, but he couldn't prove it of course... He - ah - found it on Harry...'

'Oh...' Sirius grimaced. 'Did he figure out how to...'

'No! Thank-God,' Remus laughed again. 'Harry'd wiped the map before Snape found it. But Snape had obviously tried to force it to reveal what it was...'

'Ahh...'

'And you remember what it does when someone tries to force it without trying to do mischief?'

Sirius snorted, his shoulders shaking. 'Ooh, I love it!'

'Well,' continued Remus, ignoring Sirius. 'He called me to his office to consult on finding an object _'so obviously full of dark magic'_' He affected Snape's disdainful tone.

'Ahh...' Sirius repeated, smirking. 'Did a bit of fast thinking, did you?'

'Told him I didn't think it was dark - just a joke parchment that insults anyone who reads it.'

'Let me guess, he didn't buy it. He always was a suspicious son-of-a...' he began when Remus snorted.

'He asked if I didn't think Harry'd got it directly from the manufacturers. It's not funny!' he cried when Sirius burst out laughing. 'I about had heart failure when he said that!'

'Do you think he suspected?'

'Oh, I've no doubt that he did - when we were in school too. Everyone _knew_ it was us - or you at least.' He glared at Sirius' continued chuckles. 'It's just, no one could ever prove it.'

'You didn't do anything foolish like confess, did you?'

'No, I managed to cover it,' he sighed. 'Then I got Harry out of there, hollered at him and confiscated the damn thing... The second I got back to my rooms I had several very strong drinks... IT'S NOT FUNNY!!' he hollered at Sirius, but it was no good. His friend was rolling on the floor, laughing.

It took several minutes of Remus hurling tea-cakes at him before Sirius composed himself enough to ask where the map was now. Remus' face turned scarlet and he hastily turned to the sink to wash his breakfast dishes, mumbling something under his breath.

'Remus...?'

'I gave it back to him, when I left the school,' he said, sounding guilty. 'I shouldn't have, but I was overcome with a fit of _stupid_ I guess...'

'I think he's the best person to have it. Could you imagine if it fell into the wrong hands?' Sirius sighed, wiping the last of the laughter induced tears from his eyes. 'At least it's something he can have that's connected with all of us... wish we could erase _Peter's_ contribution...'

'I practically dared him to use it to sneak out...' Remus berated himself, washing the dishes rather more forcefully than was necessary. 'Of all the stupid... I'm as bad as I was when we were 16...'

'Remus...'

'No!' he cut him off firmly. 'You have to make him give it up. He can't sneak out now...'

'Like you said though, he is more cautious... but I'll talk to him,' Sirius added, as firmly. 'Oh, yes, believe me, before school starts back up, he, Dumbledore and I are going to have a nice long chat about security.'

******************

The next morning dawned as bright as any...

Draco had completely cleaned out Harry's handy food stash, much to Harry's annoyance. 'How are we going to replenish it?' he argued. 'Sirius knows how much there was - he bought it all for me. How am I supposed to explain to him how it's all gone already?'

'Try the truth,' said Draco, downing the last of the _Every-Flavour-Beans_. 'He seems like the type to like that kind of thing.'

'Piss-off, Malfoy.'

'Oh!' Draco groaned, crossing his legs. 'Don't say that! I have to go! When are they letting us out?'

'Very soon,' said Harry, glancing at the clock as he hastily stashed several rolls of parchment and his wand in his baggy shirt. 'Get dressed. We'd better be ready when they open the door.'

Harry'd woken up from his little 'nap' the day before hearing Malfoy muttering about their homework. They'd ended up working on it together in an odd sort of polite civility. Not to be confused with anything friendly, of course... Their conversation had been minimal and almost business-like, but there _had_ been an unusual lull in the number of insults passed back and forth.

_Nothing happened..._ Harry had silently repeated, over and over, and sending an occasional glare in Malfoy's direction. _That's right. Move along... nothing to see here..._

'Will we get breakfast?' Malfoy's whining voice brought Harry back to the present. 'Or will those lousy Muggles...'

'Shhh!' Harry cut him off, hearing movement in the hall. _Trust Malfoy to think with his stomach..._ 'Usually,' he whispered, watching the door as the locks clicked.

The instant the door was opened, Draco rushed forward, only to be impeded by the large form of Vernon Dursley. The mans' girth was enough to completely block the door frame and Harry was glad that Draco did not try and force his way past.

'From now on,' Dursley began pompously. 'You two will eat breakfast in the back garden, and your supper up here.' He glared at them, as if daring either boy to argue. 'You are both to stay away from Dudley. I don't even want you to be in the same room... Oh, just go!' he snapped at Draco who had been dancing on the spot. The instant the blond was past him, Vernon stepped into the room, towering over his nephew. 'As for you,' he snarled. 'You are perfectly fine to be doing whatever Mrs. Figg asks of you today. I don't want to hear about you making up _any_ excuses. Understood?'

'Yes Uncle Vernon,' Harry said quickly, hoping his uncle found no reason to deny him breakfast (not to mention the fact that he was becoming increasingly aware that it had been nearly ten hours since he was last allowed to use the toilet as well).

'Good.' Vernon fixed Harry with a hard stare. 'A runty little thing like you shouldn't keep picking fights with kids who are so much bigger than you... Like Dudley and his friends...'

'Yes Uncle Vernon,' Harry sighed. He was saved from any more of his uncle's 'advice' when Draco reappeared at the door, looking much more comfortable than he had done mere moments before.

'So,' Draco said casually, though Harry could detect a note of eagerness in his voice. 'Do we get breakfast then?'

'What was he on about?' asked Draco casually a few minutes later on the patio as he ravaged his meagre breakfast. 'Since when did you pick a fight with anyone?'

'Nose out Malfoy,' said Harry simply as he dug into his own meal.

'Humph,' he replied. _Like I care anyway.._. They both ate in silence for a minute, Draco chewing thoughtfully before he spoke again, unable to stop himself from asking the question he knew the answer to already, even as he knew that Harry would never give that answer. 'Is that your cover story then? In case anyone sees...?'

'I said **nose out!!**' snapped Harry, rising quickly and heading inside with his breakfast bowl. Draco heard a muffled scream from inside, followed by a crash and several raised voices.

_This is too weird,_ thought Draco. _Why am I asking? Why the _hell_ do I care?!_

'You there!' Harry's aunt screeched, startling him, her freakishly long neck twisting around the half opened back door. 'Just leave your bowl out there and head around the side of the house to meet Harry out front. Well hurry up!' she snapped when he didn't move right away. 'She'll be here in a minute. And mind the flowers!'

_These people are freaks!!_ Draco observed, abandoning his food. _Are all Muggles like this? No wonder Father hates them..._ Draco cut off that thought even as it began to form. _I refuse to think about him, or his plans for me. **Please, Please!** let whatever Mum and Dumbledore are doing work out. Don't let him find out and force me to join..._

Mrs Figg was already waiting for them when Draco emerged from the side of the house a moment later. She was telling Harry to hurry up, that she was in a rush this morning. 'Are we doing something different today?' Draco asked as he jogged up to the car.

'Draco?' she asked sounding - and looking - shocked. Both Harry and Draco looked at her apprehensively for a moment before she seemed to compose herself. 'Forgive me boys, old age catches up with me every once and a while and I get a little confused. I thought you weren't going to be here this morning for some reason Draco.' She smiled that insipid, sickly sweet smile that all old ladies are known for and again urged them to hurry into the car.

If only either of them had known Arabella Figg well enough to know that she was one old lady definitely _not_ known for a sickly sweet smile. A wicked smirk, maybe. A deadly glare, certainly. But never, ever, had any expression that had ever crossed her face been described as insipid...

'Wait a minute,' said Harry a moment later, looking out the window as they turned left, instead of the usual right at the corner. 'Aren't we going to your place tod-' His question was never finished. Before either of the boys had fully registered that anything was wrong, all they knew was darkness...

*******************

_I don't like it!_ he repeated to himself for the thousandth time as he reached the stone gargoyle outside the headmaster's office and barked the password. _I don't like it!!_

'Severus...?' Dumbledore began to ask as the younger wizard burst into his office.

'Something's up, ' he cut him off abruptly. 'I don't like it. When was the last time you checked on the boys?'

'Harry?' came a startled question from an armchair in front of the headmaster's desk. 'What's up?'

Severus had been so agitated that he hadn't noticed Black sitting there when he'd come in. The look of worry on the man's face could almost make him forgive the git for interrupting him - almost.

'When?!' he demanded again, turning back to Dumbledore and ignoring Black.

'Not since Saturday,' he replied carefully. 'But the wards...'

'We need to check - now!'

'Severus, please calm down. What has happened?'

With a visible effort, the potions master brought his agitated state under control.

'Lucius,' he muttered, through clenched teeth. 'I was talking to him just now through the Floo, and he said that he had found Narcissa- She's alive, for now,' he grumbled to the headmaster's worried expression. 'I trust she doesn't know where Draco is?'

Dumbledore shook his head. 'No, she asked me to keep his location secret from her as well. Just in case...' He sighed. 'Well, just in case this happened.'

'That's something, I guess.' Severus took a deep breath, trying, without success to allay his worry. 'But that's not all...' He suddenly noticed that he was wringing his hands and so, very deliberately pulled each hand out of sight into the folds of his robes. 'He said he was going to enact some new plan to make use of some very old information.'

'What...?'

'He wouldn't say what information!' Severus cried, uncharacteristically allowing a small amount of his agitation show. 'But Albus, he was practically dancing with excitement. And that, as you know, is a very bad sign.'

'Harry!' Black jumped out of his chair, advancing on an equally agitated Severus. 'If that overgrown Poof so much as...'

'Sirius!' Dumbledore's quiet power stopped both men before they could come to blows. 'We don't know it has anything to do with Harry. I want you to go back to Remus' place and wait for me to contact you. Sirius, **now!**' he ordered to stop any protest. 'It's too important. We'll check on both boys and I'll contact you as soon as we know. We cannot risk exposing you and having to divide our attentions if the boys need help. **Go!**'

Clearly wanting anything but to obey, Sirius growled loudly as he moved to the fire. Violently hurling the Floo powder in, he barked the incantation that allowed him access to his friend's house.

Severus had barely turned back to the headmaster when the flames rose again and Arabella Figg's tear-stained face appeared.

'Albus! They... they were gone! Both of them... Gone! My tyres... I was late... **GONE!! **Dear Merlin, they were gone!'

_Bloody hell, bugger and damnation!!_ Severus cursed himself as he sank, weak-kneed into a chair. 'Bugger...' he swore quietly. If Lucius had them Potter was as good as in the Dark Lord's hands, and Draco... Though the Dark Lord didn't want _him_ dead, he would mark him and make him a Death Eater... 'Bugger...'

**********************

They'd brought him in last night.

Pretending to be asleep, and hoping they'd forget about her, Narcissa Malfoy hadn't looked as they'd dragged him past her cell. They had ignored her, and she'd laid still, praying that it wasn't Draco- her boy, who she'd tried to save...

He hadn't struggled, and she'd suspected that he'd been either unconscious, or effectively so. The small moan of pain he made as his body had hit the ground of the cell next to hers had pierced her heart and she'd had to bite her lip hard, her fists clenched in the folds of her ragged robes to stop herself crying out.

This was a boy they'd brought in she'd thought - if there was one thing she knew, it was the sound of a boy - not quite a man, but not still a child - in pain.

The grunts and moans the boy had made as the men had kicked him had told her that he was _not _unconscious and her heart broke a hundred times, the shrapnel tearing at her soul, even as she'd known, from the sound of his pain, that this boy was not her son, her beautiful boy - Draco.

It had been Lucius who had stopped the abuse finally, 'Enough,' he'd said in that sneering voice of his that said he'd been enjoying the boys pain. 'Our Lord wants him intact.'

'She'd waited several minutes after they'd closed the massive stone door leading to the dungeons before stirring, wanting to be sure they'd really gone and weren't coming back. She'd crawled then as quickly as she could to the far side of her cell, to the bars separating her from the boy. She'd called out to him, first gently, and then in desperation 'Are you alright? - Who are you? - Do you know where my son is? - Tell me he's alright!'

But it'd been no use... Mercifully, for him, he'd lapsed into unconsciousness. She'd wept then for her son and this boy, and all the children. Children of Death Eaters - expected to follow in their parents footsteps, expected to bear pain willingly in service to darkness... and children of the enemies of that darkness, used as pawns and weapons against their parents by those who would support evil...

The moisture stained her face as she'd struggled in vain to reach the crumpled form of this boy; unconscious, his back to her, his hair, as dark as her Draco's was light, but still so like her son as he lay there.

******

She shuddered now as she watched him sitting on the floor of his cell, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth, eyes darting blindly all around. He was wearing muggle clothes but his shirt had been torn so badly that it'd been rendered effectively useless, hanging in tattered shreds about his shoulders, exposing his back to the cold dungeon.

What she saw there made her wish for the darkness that surrounded him, but her violet eyes could not avoid seeing the roadmap of abuse on the boys body. Only yesterday, she'd been glad to have her Veela mother's eyes - terrors of the dungeon being much easier to bear without the darkness too. Now though, she wished she couldn't see this boys suffering.

She'd been silent since she'd first awakened to see him sitting there rocking nervously. 'Harry?' she said softly now, trying to steady her voice - still the boy jumped.

'Who's there?!' he called, darting away from the sound.

'I'm in the cell next to you - I'm a prisoner as well...' She put as much soothing reassurance as she could manage into her voice. 'My name is Narcissa...'

'How do you know who I am?' he demanded suspiciously.

'Everyone knows what you look like Harry.' She almost smiled at his pained expression.

'Too dark to see what I look like in here,' he snorted.

'Too dark for you perhaps, but I can see quite well in the dark - do you not have any abilities that others lack?' she added to his sceptical look.

'If you can see in this pitch - how many fingers am I holding up?'

'Two - and that's not a very polite gesture Harry.' She smiled as he blushed, looking embarrassed.

'Sorry,' he said, sounding like he really meant it as he started crawling toward her. 'I didn't think you could really see me - warn me before I hit a wall will you?'

'Right there.' She stopped him about two feet from her. 'Now reach out and you'll feel the bars.'

'Narcissa...?' he said curiously as he gripped the bars. 'Are you Draco's mum?' Harry had heard Draco's mum introduced as Narcissa at the Quidditch world cup last year and he didn't think it was that common a name.

'Yes!' Her heart leapt. 'Do you know my son? Is he safe?'

'Don't know,' he said flinching in pain as he shifted position. 'We were separated...'

'You're friends?' she asked hopefully - eager for any news of her boy.

'Huh, no.' He grimaced. 'Oh, sorry,' he added quickly. 'It's nothing against him - it's just ... well, we're pretty much dead opposite everything - but I do know him ... er, ah, he's really good at potions...'

'Then he wasn't taken with you?' She hardly dared to hope - she knew that her son could be difficult to like sometimes, his father had taught him that... but he was her son and she loved him no matter what...

'Yeah, he was with me,' Harry said softly. 'He was staying with me - did you know that?' He paused, thinking. 'We were on our way to Mrs. Figg's... but...' He closed his eyes straining to remember what had happened. It had been Monday morning, Mrs. Figg had picked them up as usual... he frowned. What had happened after they'd gotten in the car? 'It wasn't her,' he said slowly. 'Whoever it was - their face was melting ... and then...' He broke off, looking confused 'I was here... Oh, God! - Sirius! He's got to be going out of his head!' moaned Harry after a moment, curling up again and hugging his knees.

'Sirius Black?' Narcissa's voice was sharp.

'He's innocent,' he replied quickly. 'It wasn't him - Pettigrew- Peter Pettigrew was the one who set up my parents - and killed all those Muggles ... I'd've thought you'd know that ...'

'My _husband_ is a Death Eater Harry.' She said the word _husband_ with disgust. 'Not me...' Harry made a quick apology, hugging his knees yet tighter. 'I was never able to believe that Sirius would've betrayed them - he and James were so close ...' she sighed. 'When I saw Peter recently, I figured out what must've happened.' If Harry could've seen her, he would have been surprised to see a terrible sadness in her overbright eyes.

'You know Sirius?' His head shot up, eyes searching uselessly. 'And my dad?' he added quieter.

'_Knew_ them Harry - a long time ago - before you or Draco were born...' She broke off for a moment, the past threatening to overwhelm her before she could work up the courage to ask the next question. 'Do you know Remus as well?' she managed finally, in a very quiet voice.

'Professor Lupin? - Oh, God, he's going to be so worried too... all that stuff he taught me,' he moaned miserably. 'And when the time came ... ' He rested his forehead on his knees, utterly dejected.

'I imagine it happened very fast Harry...' she soothed. 'How is he? - Remus,' she asked quietly after a moments silence. 'You said he's a professor?'

'Yeah,' Harry replied, looking up, confused - hadn't she heard about Professor Lupin from Draco? He had a hard time believing that Draco hadn't bad-mouthed him at home after their third year ... 'Yeah, he was our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts third year - not sure what he did after that, but he's been giving me - and Draco - extra defence lessons at Mrs. Figg's this summer.'

Narcissa listened silently, glad Harry couldn't see that she was crying softly as she thought of what might have been.

'Mrs. Malfoy?' Harry asked, tearing her out of her reverie.

'Harry, we're both prisoners here,' she said quickly, not voicing her belief that they were both likely to be murdered very soon. 'I think you'd better call me Narcissa.'

'Er, alright,' he said nervously 'Um, why _are_ you here? - I mean - your husband...'

'Is the reason I'm here Harry - this is the Malfoy estate dungeon. It is a very long story Harry,' she said to his shocked expression - _I'll tell you about it if we live long enough_ she thought to herself.

'What happened-' Harry began, but hearing the sound of the key in the dungeon door, Narcissa quickly told him to move away and pretend to be unconscious.

'If they're here for me the may ignore you if you're quiet,' she said urgently.

They hadn't come for her though. The two men went straight for Harry's cell and, ignoring his feigned unconsciousness Lucius bent over him and muttered _Enervate_ as the other man - who Narcissa recognized to be Pettigrew, bracketed the torch he'd been carrying.

'Get up boy!' Lucius snarled, dragging Harry to his feet and then knocked him down with the back of his hand - Harry didn't try and get back up.

'Pathetic child,' he sneered down on the small form. 'Our Lord is here for you Harry.' He punctuated the taunt with a kick that spun the boy around and forward onto his stomach. 'He is even now deciding how to kill you as slowly as possible...'

'That's good,' Harry grunted and tried to push himself up, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. 'The last _several_ times he's tried to kill me quickly it didn't work out too well - and every time he _tries_ to kill me and then _fails_, and I get away _again_ - I have to answer the most unbelievably boring questions...'

_He's mad!!_ thought Narcissa wildly as Lucius went to work with that horrid ornamental cane he carried with him everywhere - for this very purpose...

'Lucius!' cried the other Death Eater. 'He's needed alive...'

'Fine,' snarled Lucius, panting for breath. She didn't dare move to look, but from long experience she knew that Lucius would be flushed, his blond hair wild from the exertion of administering the beating.

'Hurry-up and get the blood sample then,' Lucius snapped.

Peter Pettigrew scurried into the cell, his robes brushing the damp ground - Narcissa winced, hearing Harry cry out as Pettigrew reached him - no doubt collecting the blood sample Lucius had mentioned.

'Wormtail,' slurred Harry, his voice thick with pain and disgust. 'That's the last time you'll take my blood you snivelling bastard.' The swish of a booted foot flying through the air, and a grunt of pain told Narcissa that either Pettigrew or Lucius had kicked him.

- It started suddenly - the ground, shaking violently, and Narcissa looked up in spite of herself, holding the wall for support.

Lucius and Pettigrew were both trying to keep their footing - Pettigrew looked very scared - his eyes darting to the ceiling as if he expected it to cave in on him. Perhaps it would have, if the shaking had kept going - but as quickly as it had started, it was over and the two men quickly grabbed the torch and hurried out of the dungeon.

This time, she didn't hesitate, rushing to the bars that separated her from Harry.

**********

Draco Malfoy regained consciousness suddenly to a rumbling that shook the bed he found himself in. He lay quite still for some time trying to remember what had happened - how he had come to be wherever he was. He did not want to open his eyes until he'd worked it out a bit.

_Potter_. He'd been staying at that foul, small, little Muggle house - forced to share a room that was smaller than his _closet_ with _Potter._ His bed had been uncomfortable, and stupid _Potter_ had woken him up every night with his stupid nightmares.

The only fun had been antagonizing those ridiculous Muggles Potter lived with. It hadn't even been a challenge really - all it took was a look at Potter's fat cousin and he'd run screaming to his Mummy. At first he'd even enjoyed watching Harry get in trouble for everything he, Draco did. His aunt or uncle would smack Harry one and Draco would _laugh_! - Didn't _Potty_ deserve it for all the times he'd one-upped him? Harry would always glare at him when the stupid Muggles would smack him for something Draco had done, and threaten him later with all the hexes he was going to use the minute they boarded the train to school.

Draco had always ignored him, of course - it wasn't that he doubted that he _could_ - he saw him in their extra lessons one-on-one and even _he_ had to grudgingly admit the stupid git was good - but still, Draco knew he _wouldn't_ do anything. On the train ride home last term was one thing, but Potter'd never risk the points to Gryffindor on the way **to** school_._

Still, Draco's deliberate annoyance of the Muggles had lost its fun when he'd let Harry's enormous cousin have a _Canary Cream_.

It'd been hilarious at first - the huge boy had sputtered and acted as though he were about to die. But Harry - he'd run panicked up to his room before the fat boy had even transformed. Draco had followed, laughing before he'd moulted, but up in the room, Harry'd screamed at him, his eyes wild with panic before diving under the bed...

When Potter's uncle had arrived carrying what looked to Draco like a broomstick handle, his life fantasy number four, was blown to bits_: Muggles really _weren't_ so different from Wizards..._ That Muggle had displayed the same kind of expertise with stick and fist, as Draco's father often did with cane and wand...

Draco screwed his eyes shut tighter as he remembered Harry yelling at him to get out before it had started ... he couldn't move though - paralysed by fear and a sense of familiarity that had made him feel ill ...

They'd both been locked in the room afterwards and he'd spent some time staring blankly - in a bit of a stupor as Harry slept it off - thinking about how oddly _like_ this fat Muggle his father was, and how much his father would just _love_ the comparison. He'd eventually come out of it, and even managed some semblance of normalcy by the time Harry woke up several hours later - pretending nothing had happened... nothing was wrong... Everything so sickeningly _normal_ like nothing had happened... just like...

The day after that though, that's where things got a little hazy.

They'd been in Mrs. Figg's Muggle car ... Harry was getting ready to lie to his favourite teacher about why he was so stiff and sore, when the old woman had suddenly let go of the wheel and turned on them. They'd both sat there shocked as she'd grabbed them ... and that was it - until he'd woken up here.

Where was _here_ he wondered - though familiar smells and sounds seemed to answer for him - Home - Hell ...

What had it been about her face that had surprised them and caused them both to freeze? She'd been sickeningly cheerful when she'd picked them up - maybe a bit more rushed than usual - but when she'd turned around...

'**Draco!**' The commanding voice of his father had its usual effect and Draco sat bolt upright.

'It was a masking charm,' he said quietly as his father strode the length of the room. 'It wasn't Mrs. Figg - you used a masking charm.' Lucius Malfoy had reached the side of his bed and slapped him hard.

'Get up,' he snapped. 'Did I tell you to speak?'

'No, sir.' Draco answered quickly as he scrambled off the bed.

'Get dressed.' Draco hurried to obey. _This can't be good_ he thought as he tried to keep up with his father's long strides leading him through the manor.

'Sit,' Lucius barked, indicating _The Chair_ when they'd reached the armoury. _Oh no,_ thought Draco sitting resignedly, _not good at all_...

*******

'Harry!' Narcissa cried desperately to the limp mass on the ground. 'Harry! Are you alright?'

'No, not really ...' he answered in a small voice. 'God I hate that man ...'

'Are you mad, talking to them like that?' she cried. 'What if they'd actually brought _HIM_ down?'

'Voldemort's not here,' he said, wincing, as he laughed at their bluff. 'He's not even near here.'

'How do you know that?' she asked quickly.

'I just do.' He started to move slowly, groaning with the effort. 'I can feel it when he's near - trust me.'

'Harry, can you come closer? I can help you if you can get within reach.' She paused briefly as he struggled to move. 'Should I even ask how you can feel when he's near?'

'No,' he replied, trying to get up on all fours and failing. 'Oww,' he groaned. 'That's broken,' he muttered, trying again... this time staying off of his left arm. 'I just can - you'll know when I feel him get near - can we just leave it at that? Oww!' he winced as she examined his forearm.

'This'll hurt Harry,' she warned him. 'Mm-hm,' he grunted before she quickly set the bone. He hissed with pain, his body jerking slightly, but he made no other noise. Only her Veela sight allowed her to see how pale he was.

'Harry,' she said softly. 'What do you know about Veela?'

'They turn ugly when they're angry,' He laid down next to the bars, his eyes shut tight against the pain. 'And they make men do really stupid things...'

'Yes,' she smiled briefly - a fair assessment. 'That's true, but Veela song may also be used to heal ...' She looked at him, his suffering breaking her heart. 'Harry, I am half Veela.' She waited for a response, but Harry gave none. 'If you let me...' she reached through the bars to brush his hair, matted with sweat and the dirt of the dungeon, off of his face. He jumped slightly at her touch and winced but then relaxed. 'I can lesson your pain Harry...'

'I didn't know that...' he murmured. 'Bet Hermione does though - about Veela song ...'

'Harry,' she said, trying not to cry. 'Please let me help you.'

'No,' he replied quietly. 'They'd know - they'd be angry if you...'

'Not necessarily.' _So like my Draco_ Narcissa thought - _no matter how much he was suffering, he thought first of protecting her._

'I'll leave the marks - just lessen the pain. They won't know, but you'll feel better. Please Harry...' She saw him open those huge green eyes of his, staring blindly up before closing them again and nodding slowly.

'Try and sit up - and take off your shirt. I need to touch your skin to make it work - the nearer your injuries the better.' She explained further, to his look of concern. 'Any singing will help, but if I'm going to heal the deeper injuries - and without healing the marks...'

Slowly he pushed himself up, struggling - his back to her to pull what was left of his shirt over his head.

'Harry, I need to warn you - even the healing variety of Veela song can have a -_strong effect_ - on unrelated men ...' He nodded and she could tell, even with his back to her, that he was blushing - he knew exactly what she meant ... 'It's nothing to be embarrassed about...'

He shivered as she laid her hands lightly on his back. He sat very still, his head resting on his knees as she began humming and singing softly. Harry didn't know how long she sang, he just knew that the sound was beautiful and that the pain in his body was getting lighter and lighter.

Narcissa sang as her mother had taught her, her song telling the boy's body to heal, yet leave the marks caused by the damage to flesh and bone. Broken bones knitted, bruised tissue healed... Tears stained her face as she saw how many bruises there were. _Oh, you poor child,_ she thought as she realised that many of the bruises were several days old, and so, caused by someone other than their captors.

'Oh, my God...' she mumbled, weeping when she'd finished and he fell over sideways into a restorative sleep. 'He's a _resister_...'

She slumped back in her own cell, glad that her human half, combined with the fact that he reminded her so strongly of her own son, made her able to overcome her Veela nature, having met a resister.

Other part-Veela could resist the call of their kind, but for someone without Veela blood to be able to resist was exceedingly rare - and so, madly desirable... There was nothing as attractive, to a Veela as a man who could resist her alluring power. Narcissa had only known one other in her life... she swallowed a sob as she thought about how she'd lost him, when Lucius...

'Poor, poor, Harry, once it gets out that _you,_ of all people are a resister, on top of everything...' She looked at him sadly. 'You won't be safe from any Veela, or part-Veela women.' _That is **if** by some miracle you survive another day..._

She started digging at the stone wall - trying to get around the bars that separated him from her then. The trembling earlier had weakened the mortar somewhat and, having nothing else better to do, she thought she may as well try and be able to get to the boy in the other cell. 'I don't want him,' she told herself firmly. 'He may be a resister...' She took a deep breath, strengthening her resolve. 'But he's my son's age...' She kept digging, her fingers beginning to bleed. 'Remus' pupil...' She picked up a piece of stone that had fallen, using it to chip further at the wall. 'James and Lily's son... Sirius' godson...' She took another deep, steadying breath. 'Harry,' she said to the sleeping boy. 'From here on out, you shall be a son to me.' The small _*content*_ sounding noise he made to this proclamation went straight to her mothers' heart.

She started singing again then - a song of hope... of strength and healing... not just for the son before her on the ground, but for her son Draco... They'd been together when Harry'd been taken and brought here. That meant that her Draco would've been taken as well and if, as she knew he must be, he was with his father - here in the manor somewhere, he would need her song just as much. She toned her song carefully - so soft and low that it could pass through stone and to the ears of those who needed to hear it - and only to them. She whispered her song only for her sons - her boys... both made strong by too-early suffering, but both still not yet men... Her baby boy, blond and beautiful - so like his father, though in appearance only... and her new surrogate son, marked forever both physically and spiritually by the betrayal and tragedy that had taken his own parents from him _far_ too early....

************

Draco regained consciousness far more slowly this time. He was lying face down on the floor of the armoury - he had been in _The Chair_ for what had seemed like days, though in reality, it'd probably been no more than an hour - enduring his father's barrage of questions, suffering the consequences of the answers Lucius had deemed unacceptable...

'You must be properly punished, dear son, and everything in place before I summon our Lord and Master,' Lucius had sad as he'd raised his cane, dragging Draco out of _The Chair_...

He didn't know what he was hearing at first, in his state of near unconsciousness, but gradually, he began to recognize the Whisper of Angels that was his mother's voice, singing to him... 'Mum?' he croaked, opening his eyes. It wasn't his mother he saw though, it was his father, pointing his wand at him and uttering the spells that picked him up physically and sent him flying through the manor into his room. He heard the door close tight and felt himself being tied magically to the bed before drifting into the restful slumber induced by his mother's song. His last thought before losing consciousness though was one of joy - _his mother was still alive!!_

*****************

'What's he doing in there?' Arabella asked as she stepped out of the fire, cringing at the sounds of destruction coming from the next room.

'Trying to punch his way through the wall I think,' Remus grimaced. 'He never was the patient type - and when it comes to Harry in danger... Where's Dumbledore? I thought he was coming with you?'

'He'll be along shortly... This has got to stop,' she said finally, heading for the other room. 'Sirius!' Remus heard her say sharply, closing the door behind her. Very quickly, the sound of crunching plaster stopped, Remus moved closer to the door to listen but was distracted by Dumbledore apparating beside him.

'Is everyone here?' he asked.

' 'Bella's in with Sirius.' He indicated the door through which she'd gone.

'Ah,' said Dumbledore knowingly. 'Not taking this well I imagine...'

'No,' he replied shortly. 'Did you expect that he would? ... I'm sorry,' he sighed. 'I didn't mean to snap...'

'Quite understandable,' Dumbledore waved off his apology. 'I need to ask you to do something for me Remus.'

'Of course...'

'Severus can help us, but he cannot get through your wards...' The wards on this house had been set up when Remus had been a child and lived here with his aunt and uncle, 'Bella and Matt. They allowed entry to only a few people, by apparition or Floo. Dumbledore knew this, and that alterations to those wards were time consuming - he also knew that there were certain ways to get around them...

'I don't have time to alter the wards to admit him,' Remus said slowly, getting the gist of what Dumbledore wanted him to do. 'If he'll let me, I can _Apparate_ him through...' Though it was possible for some, more powerful wizards to _Apparate_ both themselves and another, it had to be done carefully - it wasn't exactly illegal, but it was very much frowned upon.

Dumbledore merely nodded. 'Tell him as much, and that I asked for him here - he's in Hogsmeade, just outside the Three Broomsticks.' With a quick nod and a _pop_, Remus vanished. A minute later, he reappeared, holding Severus Snape's forearm. Snape pulled out of his grip very quickly, looking distinctly surly.

'Remus Jupiter Lupin!!' Arabella's voice made him jump guiltily. 'Did you just _Apparate_ him here?!' Remus looked imploringly at Dumbledore.

'I asked him to Arabella,' he replied quickly. 'We need Severus' help and there's no time to alter the wards.'

'Oh.' A blush crept over her face. 'Of course - sorry,' she added to Remus, who smiled at her before she changed the subject. 'Remus, will you tell him to let me fix him up?' She indicated Sirius' hands, broken and bleeding from trying to punch through the wall.

'Sirius,' he said shortly. 'You're useless to anyone like that - trust me, she has a lot of experience mending cuts and broken bones.'

Grumbling, and scowling openly at Snape, Sirius held out his hands. 'How did this happen?' he growled at no one in particular as Arabella healed his hands with a few quick charms. 'First he's taken from Hogwarts where he's supposed to be safe - and now from the Muggles - where I thought there were so many wards and safeguards... How did this happen?' he repeated, desperation in his voice as he looked miserably at his repaired hands.

'My car had its' two passenger side tyres punctured, so I was delayed in picking them up,' said Arabella matter-of-factly. 'We found an identical car abandoned near Privet drive.' She sighed, looking Sirius in the eyes. 'It would seem that they were tricked into willingly entering the car, and attacked after they left the Dursleys.'

'But, how did they...?'

'Arrows were used to puncture my tyres - I've no idea how they got the identical car, or how they convinced the boys that they were being picked up by me.'

'It was Malfoy Senior?' he demanded.

'There's no way to know for certain,' said Dumbledore. 'Though,' he admitted, 'it would seem likely...'

'You had to hide the Malfoy boy there.' Sirius was scowling angrily at Dumbledore. 'It's not like Harry wasn't already enough of a target - you had to hide Malfoy's _son_ with him... we may as well have painted a giant red bullseye on Harry's back...'

'Sirius...' began Remus, but his friend cut him off.

'No Remus!!' he snarled. 'I'm sick of it...'

'Perhaps we'd be better served trying to find them instead of trying to lay blame.' Snape broke in with his usual oily voice.

'He's right,' said Remus grabbing Sirius by the back of his robes to keep him from lunging after Snape.

'Fine!' Sirius shrugged out of his friend's grasp. 'Can you get us into Malfoy's estate?'

'No,' growled Snape in return, equally as angry.

'I thought you were supposed to be our inside man - Lucius' big pal...'

'Look Black - you could search for a hundred years and not find Malfoy Manor - it's as warded as this place, maybe more. You could **not** get in - and if you tried to force your way through by Floo, or apparition, the wards would scatter you body parts over the entire country.' Snape said this last part with a vicious sneer on his face. 'And as amusing as that might be, it would hardly help Draco, or Potter.'

'Enough of this!' snapped Dumbledore, his eyes flashing as Sirius moved furiously to reply. 'Severus, would you be willing to contact Lucius? Tell him that you've heard that both boys are missing - ask if he's got them?' Snape nodded, still looking surly. 'You'll have to go back to Hogwarts - use a secure Floo connection...' The old wizard sighed, fixing Snape with a compassionate gaze. 'To the best of you knowledge Severus,' he asked seriously, 'have the Malfoy wards changed from what we've discussed already?'

'Not as far as I know - but that's no guarantee...'

'It'll have to do. Remus, will you Apparate Severus back to Hogsmeade? Stay with him and come back here with whatever you manage to find out. We'll work on getting past the wards from here.'

With a quick nod and the quickest glance at the scowling Sirius, Remus quickly grabbed Snape's arm and they both vanished with a _*pop*_.

***********

'Dumbledore said to stay with you.' Remus' usually calm voice betrayed his strain and annoyance.

'Look _Jupiter_,' Snape smirked and Remus winced, actually surprised that it had taken so long for the potions master to make fun of his middle name - _thanks a lot 'Bella_ he thought as Snape continued talking. 'We can't risk him suspecting that you're in the room - wait outside the door and listen if you must.' He waved impatiently. 'You will _not_ jeopardize my life by exposing me as a spy.'

In the end of course, Remus had acquiesced - though he'd never admit it to Snape, he'd been right - they couldn't let Lucius suspect that he was there. Listening at the door, however, was a painful experience. Quite apart from the frequent vulgar and anti- anything and everything that wasn't pureblood comments throughout, Malfoy did have the boys... and his description of how Harry was being treated... Well, Remus was just glad that Sirius didn't hear it - he would have gone _mad_ with rage...

'M.Q. tests?' Remus wondered out loud as he and Snape walked back out of the Hogwarts grounds so that they could _Apparate_ back to the others.

'Magical Quotient,' snapped Snape icily. 'A blood test to gauge the magical potential of an individual - you aren't as smart as people think you are Lupin...'

'I know what it is!' Remus snapped back, uncharacteristically rising to Snape's bait. 'I just don't know why Malfoy is M.Q.'ing Harry and Draco for Voldemort... I'd also love to know why you didn't ask him... or do you already know?'

'We're past the wards.' Snape turned to him, disgust on his face. 'You can _Apparate_ us.'

Deciding for now to ignore the fact that Snape didn't answer his question - figuring he'd have to elaborate once they were back with Dumbledore, Remus decided first to address the look of disgust the potions master always wore when he spoke with him. 'I didn't know about it - I never would have allowed him to...'

'Spare me werewolf...'

But Remus had had his fill of Snape's insults. 'Look, _Severus_,' he fumed. 'You know what would have happened to you if you'd got through and I had...' he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Did you ever think of what would have happened to me? Do you know the penalty to a werewolf if he... Sirius was an ass - he didn't think out the consequences to either of us had you gotten through - and believe me he suffered plenty for it. Maybe not as much from Dumbledore as you would have liked, but believe me, his father more than made up for it...'

'I can't begin to tell you how little I care about any of this _Remus_,' snarled Snape. 'Let's just get this over with before I think too much about what I might catch by allowing a creature like you to _Apparate_ me...' He didn't finish his insult. Remus grabbed him suddenly, rather more roughly than was necessary, and this time, doing none of the charms needed to alleviate the discomfort of being _Apparated_ by someone else. He let go of him instantly on arriving in his living room, letting Snape fetch forward.

'You bastard,' breathed Snape, in obvious distress.

'Was that really necessary Remus?' scolded Arabella, rushing forward to help Snape. Severuslooked like he'd rather die than be helped by her as she assisted him into a chair, pulling out her wand, but he was in no position to refuse. He was pale, even for him and shivered under a cold sweat. Remus, for his part just sat sulkily in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Sirius met his eyes and gave the briefest hint of a smile before speaking.

'Well...?'

Remus nodded briefly. 'He has them both. They're both alive for now - Voldemort hasn't been called in yet - he's waiting on the results of M.Q. tests he's done on both of them.' At this, Sirius choked, paling visibly and glancing at Dumbledore nervously. 'Ah,' Remus continued, slightly annoyed. 'I see I'm the only one who doesn't know what that's about - Never mind,' he said quickly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the irritation and hurt out of his voice as Sirius turned to him. 'Anything to add Severus?' he finished icily.

'Yeah,' he replied, a look of pure venom on his face. '_Jupiter,_ you forgot that he didn't want me to come because he's already got Pettigrew there.' At the mention of Pettigrew's name, Sirius clenched his fists and leaned against the wall, clearly trying to control his anger.

'Remus,' he said finally in a quiet voice. 'It was decided at the highest levels that it had to be kept secret. Even as his godfather, I wouldn't have known except I happened to be there when the results came in.' Sirius sighed, finally meeting his friend's eyes. 'We almost didn't read them - you know how James felt about being forced to have the test done... But then the doctor started owling and calling on the Floo, asking to consult about it... Remus,' his face was as serious as Remus had ever seen it. 'Harry's M.Q is off the scale - immeasurable... it was so high - a result like his was previously thought to be only theoretical... Remus,' he nearly pleaded. 'I swear to you, the only reason I knew was because I was there and James wouldn't let them mess with my memory. Dumbledore was called in, in a professional capacity, to interpret the results. Arabella,' here he glanced at her questioningly. 'I'm guessing you were informed in your capacity as his chief watcher in the Muggle world?' she nodded. 'Pettigrew was probably off hanging out with his Death Eater buddies, and you were asleep - day after moon. What I don't know,' he turned snarling at Snape. 'Is how _you_ came to know.'

'I'll bet if you think about it _really_ hard, you might figure out who told the Death Eaters...' Snape sneered unpleasantly, waiting for Sirius to figure it out.

When he did, he looked like he'd been hit by a hundred bludgers. 'No,' he croaked. 'We stopped - we recovered the file before they...'

'Yes, but not before your father _told_ Lucius what was _in_ that file.'

Sirius let loose with such a stream of obscenities then that even for the varied experiences of those present, everyone heard a word or phrase that he or she had never heard or, even thought of before... When Sirius finally stopped, even Snape was blushing slightly. 'If that was meant to embarrass me Snape-boy,' he snarled, his eyes sparking dangerously. 'It doesn't. Everyone here already knows about my _father _- but damn you to hell anyway.' Sirius then began pacing around the room for several minutes. No one dared to go near him, or even speak to interrupt him as he muttered further abuse under his breath, magic cackling around him as he paced.

'**Blood!!**' he shouted suddenly, causing everyone to jump. 'Honestly,' he fairly laughed at Dumbledore and Remus especially. 'You two are supposed to be that smart... a blood charm! A bloody blood charm - to track him!' he fairly screamed now as Remus and Dumbledore caught on.

'The aunt or cousin!' cried Remus. 'Come-on, let's go.' He reached for Snape to _Apparate_ him out but the potions master recoiled, and Arabella actually slapped his hand away before telling a sheepish Remus that she'd _Apparate_ Snape. In the blink of an eye, the four wizards, and one witch were running from Magnolia Crescent to #4 Privet drive.

************

**NOTES:**

Thank-you to reviewers! You have gotten these first three chapters much quicker than they were originally posted on FA. I do not intend to take as long with future chapters as I did for chapter four (it's been months between chapters there). I feel I'm back on track now and no longer feeling quite as discouraged.

Cheers!

Alia


	4. I feel terrible

**Disclaimer**: Enemies, friends, pain, redemption? Harry must come to terms with the horrors he's witnessed and experienced – but how? Reprieves are tempered with added misery, but an unwelcome house guest is the least of Harry's troubles. Plotting death eaters, an angry and vengeful dark lord, a swarm of Veela, a godfather's innocence to prove, muggle relatives that just won't go away and what's this about a pesky prophesy?! All this plus Quidditch, new classes and responsibilities, the best Christmas ever and … girls!

Thanks for the reviews I've gotten for the other chapters. Chapter five is started but will be a little longer in coming out than the first four here – they were done on another site before. Thanks for reading!

Answers to Questions: Lady Foxfire: No one will know about anything for a while yet. Some will find out some stuff later – including Harry's pov on what goes on at 'home' with the Dursley's. 

Ms. Padfoot: Thanks – there is plenty going on with Severus, Lucius and Draco… it'll come out later. Can't say any more than that I'm afraid… ;)  
  


**Chapter Four:  _I Feel Terrible!_**

_'Mummy, look!' Draco squealed with delight, dancing in circles through a cloud of butterflies. 'Look! I'm a futterbye!'_

_'You are?' laughed Narcissa, running up to her five year old son and capturing him in her arms. 'Lucky me! I've caught the best butterfly in the bunch!' She swung him in wide circles through the air, eliciting peals of ringing laughter from her son._

_'Mummy!__ You're not supposed to capture me!' _

_'Oh, right…' Her warm, playful smile always made Draco feel at ease. 'We're supposed to be capturing the really little butterflies – not the big boy ones right?'_

_What Draco remembered most about these few peaceful times he had with his mother was the look of utter contentment on her face – a look seen only in these rare moments, when the two were left alone. For over an hour, Narcissa watched, as Draco carefully, and ever so gently, so as not to harm them, captured one butterfly after another to show her the different markings and colours before releasing it to go after another. _

_It never mattered what they were doing. Chasing butterflies, practicing his lessons… Draco knew joy when he and his mother were alone – she'd read to him, or listen to him talk while she held him in her lap, or, like today, she'd just watch him playing, not even trying to hide the look of contentment on her face._

_At five, Draco already knew that his father was mean. He hurt him, and he hurt his mother. Everything good about himself, Draco knew, came from his mother. As far as Draco was concerned, everything good **everywhere** came from _his_ mother. Her laughter was music, her voice a gift from above. She could sing him to sleep when bad dreams threatened, she could sing him healing when threats did damage, she could sing him cheer when sadness encroached… In his heart, he _knew_ that she could sing light into the darkest night…_

_'What the hell is this nonsense?!' It was Lucius' angry voice that shattered their peace in the end though – as it always did eventually. 'Butterflies!! What are you playing at woman?!' he snarled. 'He's supposed to be with his tutor and you have him out here playing with pansy little butterflies?!' With a wave of his wand, Lucius incinerated the small swarm of insects that had enthralled his son. Draco watched in horror, hot tears burning his cheeks as they turned to dust, only to be swept away by the soft summer breeze. _

_'Crying?!' Lucius bellowed. 'My son is crying?! Like some squalling newborn infant?!' He turned on Narcissa who had been trying to move between her husband and her son. 'You!' he snarled, knocking her to the ground with the back of his hand. 'Are you trying to turn him into some simpering, cry-baby Poof?!'_

_Lucius had then dragged a now sobbing Draco back to the castle and taught him that he'd do as his father told him, he'd feel what he told him to, he'd believe what his father told him to believe – under threat of his mother's life if he disobeyed. Draco learned this lesson, and he learned it well, but that day, he learned something else: first, that his mother did the same under threat of her son's life, and second, to never show emotions in front of his father. That day was the last time his father saw him cry…_

************

_Damn_ thought Draco, as he regained consciousness for the third time in two days. _Still here – it wasn't just a nightmare._

Automatically, he started to take mental stock of his condition. He was surprised for a minute by how little he actually hurt – until he remembered… _Mum_. He hadn't heard her song really, but he had felt its effects. It was a small pebble of hope under a river of fear… she was alive! Lucius hadn't killed her for trying to save him.

Unfortunately, as her singing had helped him to rest, she had to be nearby, and he doubted if she was merely in her sewing room… the dungeons maybe?

He was somewhat shocked then to find himself wondering about Harry – and even more surprised to find himself thinking of him _as_ '_Harry' instead of 'Potter, the boy-he-hated'. _

Being forced to stay in that Muggle house, Draco had learned that possibly, Harry didn't have life quite as easy as he'd always imagined. In fact, Harry's holiday life wasn't so very different in some ways from his own. Better in some respects – that stupid great Muggle didn't have magic to make things more _interesting_, but at least Draco had always had his mum, or the house elves to pick up the pieces after…

Was Harry down in the dungeons as well? Was he dead? No – when he'd thought him unconscious, his father had taken some of Draco's blood and told the other Death Eater to hurry up with **both**_ boys' tests, that they wouldn't contact their __Master, until everything was ready. Draco also knew, from eavesdropping on many of his father's conversations, that Voldemort had a __serious need to be the one to actually kill Harry… it seemed to be his main goal in life, though Draco hadn't discovered why. Still, it meant that Lucius wouldn't dare deprive his master of the privilege… _

That meant there was still time… but for what? _Time to imagine how we're all going to die_, he thought helplessly, clenching his fists under the magical bonds that held him firmly in his bed.

***************

_It had been an especially rousing Quidditch match that refused to be stopped even by the summer rain.  Frequent landings to let his friends all have a go on his **Nimbus 2000** had left Harry's shoes caked with mud.  Eleven long years with Aunt Petunia's obsessive horror of such messiness had outweighed only a week in the relaxed and easy-going Weasley home. _

_Which was why, while Ron and the twins had run through the kitchen, mud and all, arguing over who got to shower first, Harry had stopped outside to remove his shoes. _

_Which, in turn, was how he came to be found, tip-toeing alone through a very muddy kitchen…  holding a pair of **very incriminating muddy trainers… by Mrs. Weasley.**_

_'Er…' he stopped, staring at her nervously. 'It's raining… and muddy out and… er…' He hunched his shoulders in resignation, turning for the cleaning cupboard. 'I'll clean it up.'_

_'Why ever for Harry?' She sounded genuinely confused. 'I know that you didn't make this mess, and I know well and clear who did. And **they will be the ones to clean it up. **_**_Frederick_****_! Georgius! Ronald! You get yourselves down here this instant and clean up this mud! You've got until the count of five before I come up there and clean YOU up!!__' _**

_Harry instantly heard three sets of feet thundering down the stairs. 'Sorry, mum,' the three redheads echoed as they dashed past her, George in a bathrobe and soapy hair from an interrupted shower, to grab the mop and cloths to wash the floor._

_'Honestly, Harry dear.' Mrs. Weasley smiled, turning back to him. 'It's sweet of you to try and cover for them, but – Ahhhh!' __The sudden outcry made Harry jump and the muddy trainers fell to the floor (from which they were instantly whisked by a twin).__'What **have** you got on your feet?!' she demanded, pointing disgustedly._

_'Um, socks?' he answered nervously. Looking down, he winced to notice that he was wearing a very nubbly old pair of Uncle Vernon's cast-offs. One toe was torn, the heels were worn nearly through, and they were so loose on him that he'd been forced to tie part of the unravelling top around each ankle to hold them on._

_'Heaven's above, Harry!' Mrs. Weasley was in shock. 'You can't go about like that! Where **did you get those horrible things?'**_

_'They were my uncle's,' he muttered, shuffling his feet in a vain attempt to pull his loose toe back through the hole. 'I didn't want to wear my school socks in the mud and…'_

_'Well.' There was a slight tremor in her voice. 'They'll never do. I simply forbid it. I insist you take those things off at once.' _

_Though her tone was nothing but kind concern, Harry could feel his face burning with embarrassment as he sat on the bottom stair to pull off his socks. He couldn't make himself look at Mrs. Weasley as he dropped the articles in the wastebin she held out for him._

_'You there!'__ The harshness of her words was only slightly diminished by the small quaver now present in her voice as she rounded on her sons. 'Not a spot of mud had better be left when I come back in here.' She turned back to Harry (who had been trying to blend in with the wallpaper and hoping that his face wasn't as red as it felt) and smiled kindly at him. 'Come with me please, dear.'_

_Even though her voice had been nothing but gentle when she'd spoken to him, Harry was still a bit apprehensive as he followed her into the living room. She walked directly to her usual chair, next to the fire and started rummaging through her knitting bag, which sat beside it. 'Here you are dear,' she said, warmly, handing Harry a pair of hand-knitted socks._

_'Oh, Mrs. Weasley…' Harry backed up a step. 'No, I couldn't! Those are…'_

_'These,' Mrs. Weasley interrupted, 'are for you. Now be a good lad and put them on so I can make sure they fit. You shall hurt my feelings if you don't take them, Harry.'_

_Very reluctantly, he finally took the proffered socks, thanking his friend's mother shyly. To his great surprise, they fit perfectly, and were so comfortable, he thought that there must be some of her magic crafted into them. 'Thank-you Mrs. Weasley,' he muttered, staring at his knees. 'They're wonderful. I- I'm sorry I'm such a bother…'_

_'Harry,' she replied so seriously that Harry looked up, meeting her eyes.__ 'You are not, in any way, shape, or form – a bother. I don't want to hear anything of the sort. You're a pleasure to have here.'_

_Aunt Petunia had, on many occasions, tried to make Harry's hair lie flat. Cutting it, applying various products from soap to gel to grease, slicking it down with her hands – but never, in his whole life, could he ever remember **anyone ever smoothing his hair as gently as Mrs. Weasley did then. **This is a mother's touch** he thought, as he closed his eyes, and leaned, ever so slightly into her hand.**_

_Most boys Harry's age dreamed only about girls. And sex. But Harry (well, who's kidding who – he had those dreams too… he **was** fifteen after all!)… his favourite dream, whether waking or asleep, was of that day, and the first time he ever remembered feeling a mother's touch, as Mrs. Weasley gently smoothed his messy hair…_

***************

_Damn_, thought Harry, regaining consciousness for the second time in as many days – had it been only two days? _Still here… _

The total blackness, so dark, it hurt his eyes… he had to bring his hands up to his face to be sure that his eyes were even open. The dampness of the cold stone floor… no, it hadn't been just a nightmare – he really **was** in a dungeon. 

_Weird, though… why do I feel so comfortable and rested…? _ He'd been having a wonderful dream… his favourite, actually. He sighed in contentment. It had felt so real, in spite of his current surroundings… he could still almost feel the touch of Mrs. Weasley's hand, smoothing his hair…__

He'd never admit this out loud, but Harry'd always been a little bit jealous of his friends – and even his nemesis – for the parents they _had_… but a father who locked his mother in a dungeon…? Who was a Death Eater…? Who would beat a fifteen-year-old, scrawny underweight, boy? He couldn't be jealous of that… He pitied Draco for that.

Then he remembered… Draco's mum… she was half Veela, and she had healed him… she'd healed **him! He wasn't sure why – she was clearly very worried about her son, but still, she'd been so kind to him…**

The first time Harry'd seen Draco's mum had been at the Quidditch World Cup, last summer. She hadn't said anything, and Harry remembered thinking that she'd be really pretty, if she hadn't had such a foul expression on her face… He tried to picture that face now, but found that he couldn't reconcile what he remembered with the voice that had healed him, that had begged for information about her son, from his nemesis…

_Nemesis_ – Draco Malfoy really **was** his nemesis, had been pretty much since they'd met. He was so nasty, so… _evil… so like his father… sort of. __The eyes were different, Harry thought. Draco always had a nasty, even vicious look when he was being horrible, insulting him or Hermione or Ron… but he lacked that madly hateful, __gleefully **evil look his father'd had when he'd been hitting Harry with that cane… **_

That look… Harry shuddered. A look that was made a hundred times creepier in the flickering torchlight… so much like the look Uncle Vernon wore…  _Was Draco truly evil himself? Or was he just the product of what his father had made him…?_

'Harry?' Narcissa's voice was so close that Harry jumped when she spoke. 'Shhh,' she soothed, humming quietly. 

Harry instantly felt himself relaxing, and was only mildly surprised to find that it had been **her hand that had been gently smoothing his hair. He hadn't been imagining it after all… Oddly comforted by the unexpected display of affection, it took him a minute to realise that she was right next to him… in fact, his head resting in her lap. 'Are you…?' he began, disoriented.**

'Yes,' she said very softly. 'I managed to dig around the bars – there was a small earthquake I think…' She sounded confused. 'That's never happened here before, but it dislodged some of the rock – what's wrong Harry?!' She was speaking to his back, as he sat up quickly.

'I'm sorry.' He turned a guilty face to her. 'It just got away from me… he made me so angry… I hope I didn't do too much damage…'

'I don't understand, Harry,' Narcissa replied, sounding completely baffled by his odd behaviour.

'The shaking,' he stammered. 'That was me… I…' He looked down, a conditioned response to guilt, even in the total darkness of the dungeon. 'I was just so **angry**…I felt it get away –'

'**You** did that?!' she demanded incredulously. '**_You_** caused an earthquake?!' 

'I'm sorry!' He swallowed hard, feeling miserable. 'I didn't mean…'

'Oh, God,' she muttered, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder starting to tremble before she pulled it away. 'Oh my God…Oh, God, Merlin, Medusa… please help us…'

'I'm sorry,' Harry repeated. 'I'll be careful, I promise! I'll try really hard not to let it happen again –'

'No, Harry,' she replied quickly. 'It's just… has anything like this ever happened before? Where you were really angry, or upset, or scared… and your magic 'got away from you' without benefit of a wand?'

'Yeah.' He shrugged. 'Well, never an **earthquake** before… but I accidentally magicked away the glass between my cousin and a really big snake at the zoo. And one time I _accidentally popped myself up onto the roof of my school… a few other things too, but the worst before this was when I – ah, I blew up my aunt. Not the _boom-splat_ kind of blown up,' he added quickly. 'Uh, just like a balloon – and she's not __really my aunt, but I have to call her that…' He stopped and shrugged again. 'I always get in a lot of trouble for it, but I'm sure everyone has little accidents like that – don't they?'_

'No, Harry,' she said incredulously. 'No, they do not…' _How could he not know?_ she wondered… 'Harry, most witches and wizards_ are capable of small bits of __unfocused magic without a wand – tiny things – calling your wand when you've dropped it during a fight… like that – and mostly just things on yourself – protections – a shield against being hit with something, not being injured when you fall… but, an __earthquake… Harry, that's **big!** That most certainly is not normal…'_

'Oh, great,' Harry moaned bitterly. 'Another one…'

'Another what?'

'Another reason I'm a freak!'

'What do you mean _freak?!' demanded Narcissa quickly. 'Who said you're a freak Harry?'_

'My aunt and uncle,' he scowled. 'But they're right! It's not enough that I survived and un-survivable killing curse and caused Voldemort to lose his body and live in exile, barely alive – when I was just a baby… No… then I find out when I'm eleven that I'm a wizard…' He was babbling, and he knew it. He just hoped that Narcissa didn't know how close he was to losing it at that particular moment. He felt certain that if just _one more thing happened – just __one more!! he'd go completely insane. '…and really famous for a stupid ugly great scar on my head. And then I keep surviving every time this stupid, super-scary nasty dark wizard tries to kill me, and I can do all these things I shouldn't be able to do, and then you add this… **F-R-E-A-K!' he spelled out. 'Plain and simple.'**_

'Harry,' she said with barely controlled disgust. 'If I ever lay eyes on the Muggles who made you believe that load of…' She stopped for a moment, a soft growl in her throat – a single note that promised terrible things. 'I will sing them into oblivion.'

'I'm sorry,' Harry said again, and he truly was – he didn't mean to whine – and he'd clearly upset her. 'I didn't mean to…'

'It's alright, Harry.' He could hear in her voice the sad smile that must have been on her face. '**I'm sorry – I shouldn't lose my temper… _You are not a freak,' she said very clearly, gripping his shoulders. 'Special, absolutely unique… in many ways, you are – but _****not a freak. You must believe me when I say this Harry.' He merely lowered his head. 'Now, I wasn't going to tell you this yet, but, I hope you'll take it as something good…' Harry raised his eyes slowly, looking nervous. 'Do you remember last night, when I warned you about the strong effect of the Veela song on unrelated men?' He nodded slowly, the darkness _not_ hiding his blush from her. 'Well, you noticed that it didn't affect you like that?'**

'Well,' he said, turning his face away in embarrassment, knowing that his face was glowing. 'I'm young – and I wasn't feeling well…'

'Harry,' she laughed. 'There's nothing wrong with you – you're a resister! That means you have the ability to resist the Veela charms…'

'Ha!' he snorted. 'I was ready to throw myself out of the top box at the world cup! Not much resistance there…'

'That was the first time you'd ever seen a Veela?' Harry nodded. 'And there were a lot of them, and you weren't prepared…' she smiled. 'Have you had any contact with Veela since the top box?' Harry thought about it – there was the Veela in the forest after the World Cup that Stan Shunpike had been trying to impress – he and Hermione had had to pull Ron away… and there was Fleur…

'See,' Narcissa had obviously been watching his face as he worked it out. 'Poor Harry, I hate to tell you this, but if we ever get out of here, you're going to have a hard time of it. Resisters are rare – very rare, and most are only resisters because they aren't wholly human – part Veela men, Vampires and Werewolves… but a wholly human male able to resist…' She chuckled softly. 'They'll be throwing themselves at your feet…' Harry looked truly horrified at the prospect. 

'Are,' he croaked, his mouth dry. 'Are you sure it doesn't just mean that I'm gay or something? Or defective maybe?' Narcissa just laughed. 'Great,' he groaned. 'Just what I need.' _There it is, one more thing… is this madness then? What's next? The ability to talk to __Phoenix__'s?__ Skrewts? Astral projection? Faster than a speeding bullet? _Able to leap tall buildings…Ohh, no.___ For his next freakish trick, Harry thought_ I'd like something nice and destructive please – ooh, I know – how about a nice sudden ability to kill Voldemort… _Even his inner dialogue was starting to babble. Some small part of his brain told him not to think up such wild things – that mocking fate and his own abilities like this was – unwise… but unfortunately, he wasn't listening to that part of his brain at the moment…_

'Oh, Harry.' Narcissa's laughter finally made it through his ears. 'You'll be the envy of every man.' She laughed even harder as Harry threw himself back with a huge groan.

**************

Draco was in poor shape.

After waking up earlier, feeling better than he had any right to feel, he'd quickly been brought back to reality by his father's cane. 'I feel terrible…' he muttered to himself.

'I is sorry to hear that young master, sir…' squeaked a voice at his ear, causing Draco to jump in surprise. 'Please hold still, this will be hurting muchly, sir…'

Draco didn't have much time to be alarmed by the presence of the house-elf in his room, as, without warning, the little creature grabbed his hand and twisted it sharply. The room gave an almighty lurch, but Draco stopped, mid-scream in the face of overwhelming nausea. Taking several deep breaths before he trusted himself to open his mouth again without vomiting, he turned to the elf angrily. 'What the hell did you do that for?'

'I is sorry, young master Draco,' the creature squeaked nervously. 'But master Lucius is telling Dotty to set sirs' broken wrist, sir…'

'Oh…' Draco tried really hard to bring the little elf back into focus, but failed. 'Uhm, thanks, Dotty…' Reality was becoming as difficult to hold onto as his tenuous grip on consciousness. 'He never even asked me any questions this time…' he muttered, before blackness enveloped him again.

****************

'Imagine your goal Harry,' Narcissa prompted. 'Think about what you want – picture it in your mind…'

Once Harry'd calmed down a bit, and stopped babbling incoherently, Narcissa had told him something that had given him the first hint of hope he'd felt since he'd  been brought to these dungeons. Maybe, just maybe, if he'd done bigger magic without his wand before… he could do it again now to help them get out of here. Personally, he didn't have a lot of confidence in his ability to do any accidental (or on purpose) wandless magic without a Dursley there to provoke him in some way; on the other had, it wasn't as if he had anything much better to be doing just then either, and trying at least took his mind off of what might be coming next, or how worried Sirius must be…

'Are you picturing it Harry?' Narcissa's voice broke into his thoughts again.

_Arrgh__…_ 'Yes.'

'Good, now try and tap into a strong emotion – just like you did before accidentally. Feel the power of your emotion…' Though his eyes were screwed shut, and his body tense, he could feel her eyes on him as he concentrated on trying to unlock the door. 'Now put them together and make it happen – **STOP! STOP!!**' she cried, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him lightly.

Presently, the shaking stopped, and as the dust from the ceiling settled, Harry shook himself out of her grip. 'Oops, sorry,' he said, sitting back down on the ground, and pulling his hands roughly through his hair. 'You're wrong about me Narcissa,' he said, frustrated. 'All I can do is be destructive – honestly, I'm a menace – if I try that again, I'm likely to bring the whole place in on us.' 

'No, Harry,' she growled, grabbing him roughly and pulling him back up. 'You're not giving up! Do you hear me?!' She was shaking him harder now, but didn't seem to notice. 'Very soon, they're going to have what they need from us, and then they'll kill you, they'll kill me and they'll _kill my Draco!_' She was screaming at him now, squeezing his arms as hard as she could, oblivious to her actions.

'I'm sorry – please!' His voice took on a desperate edge as he tried to break her grip. 'I'm sorry…'

'Oh my God!' she cried, releasing him at once. 'What have I done? Harry, I'm so sorry!' She reached out for him again, but he flinched away, rubbing painfully at his left arm, where it'd been broken. 'Please Harry!' Now she was begging. 'I'm so sorry! I – I'm just so scared…'

'I know,' he said kindly. 'But sill, it won't help us much for me to cave in the roof – it'd just be doing us in for them… And I don't really fancy that…'

'I know, I know…'  

Harry could hear her pacing now, and it took him a minute to realise that she was humming again – only the relief in his broken arm made him notice.

*****************

'Why don't I have those results yet Peter?' Lucius snarled, sweeping into the study where Peter Pettigrew sat lounging.

Peter jumped, quickly pulling his feet down from the table where they'd been resting. 'I… Lucius…' he stammered. 'We couldn't go through regular channels, and too many of the staff at St. Mungo's are loyal to Dumbledore these days…'

'Spare me the details,' Lucius cut him off angrily. '**Just tell me when I'll have my results?!**'

'Soon, Lucius.' Peter hunched in his chair, fidgeting with the hem of his robes. 'Very soon… Do you really think that they might be the ones who…'

'I don't know about Draco, though with my luck, it would seem likely…' Lucius growled, sitting down regally behind his desk and wiping the silver head of his cane with a cloth from the top drawer. 'As for _Potter_…' he spat his name. 'I am quite certain. _He_ is rather old information actually. We've known about him since shortly after his birth. Thanks to that _Mudblood_ mother of his, he was tested right away… and fortunately, we had a rather useful spy turn up with the information on his results. I'm only testing him again so that our Lord may not find any fault with the information I present to him….' 

Lucius was cut off by a low rumbling and was forced to grab hold of the edges of his desk to maintain his balance as the entire castle shook for the second time in as many days.

'I didn't know that this area was prone to earthquakes!' Wormtail whispered, trembling from head to foot as he clutched his chair tightly.

'It's not…' Lucius ground out, his face colouring from anger. 'I have a bad feeling about this…' _It can't be the boy! He's too young, Lucius had researched as much information as was available about the prophesy! And the boy in his dungeon should still be too young to manifest enough power to…_

'Peter!' Lucius snapped, causing the other man to jump. 'Just to be sure, I want you to go down to the dungeon and check on the boy. Make sure he's not up to anything.'

'But surely…'

'NOW!!' Lucius' screamed order was enough, finally to send Peter scurrying for the entrance to the dungeons.

***************

Narcissa had gone back over to her own cell to take care of necessities. After he'd regained consciousness the first time, Narcissa had told Harry where there was a pot in the far corner of his cell for his use. He had been quite shy about using it, knowing that she could see in the dark – he had made her swear to several Gods that her eyes were securely shut and that there was no one else watching before he'd finally given in. Though the fact that he was doubled over from the pain of an overfull bladder had helped as well…

'I'm sorry,' he muttered for the hundredth time.

'Harry,' Narcissa replied coming back into his cell. 'I already told you not to worry about it. There's no reason to expect you to be able to control it if you haven't before. Still,' she sighed, laying her hand on his shoulder. 'I don't think you'd better try it again…'

'Well, well.' A sneering voice startled them both. Wormtail had snuck up in his rat form and transformed, just outside the bars to Harry's cell. '_Incendio__.' His spell lit the torch, bracketed on the wall._

Narcissa blinked once, her eyes adjusting almost instantly to the sudden brightness. Harry was not so lucky. Most unfortunately for him, he happened to have been staring directly at the tip of Wormtail's wand when he uttered the spell. Wide-open pupils had absorbed way too much of the light from the _Incendio spell, leaving his eyes watering profusely, while nothing but large spots danced in front of his vision._

'My, my…' Wormtail smirked as Narcissa pushed a temporarily blinded Harry behind her. 'What have we here? Little bird managed to fly into the wee boy's cage? Isn't he a bit young, even for you?'

'Where's Lucius?' she demanded icily.

'Upstairs, getting things ready for your little friend here's death.'

With the slightest squeeze to his forearm, Narcissa told Harry to keep quiet and play along with what she was about to do. 'What a crafty man you are to have snuck up on me like that…' Her voice had changed again to a cadence that Harry hadn't heard from her before, though he instantly recognized the power it had over Wormtail, whose countenance Harry could see through the spots in front of his eyes, had gone quite glassy…

'You're right, of course,' she whispered, her voice making Wormtail lean in, grabbing the bars to be closer. 'He is much too young for me. But, now that **you're** here…'

_Ewwww__!!_ thought Harry, as he saw Pettigrew practically panting over Narcissa.

'If you open the doors…' Narcissa had no more suggested it, than Pettigrew had obliged, hunched forward, his eyes gazing lovestruck at her. She leaned in to whisper briefly in his ear, and in an instant, Wormtail was away, jogging up the dungeon stairs.

'What did you say to him?' Harry whispered.

'Shhh,' Narcissa replied, pulling him after her through the door Wormtail had left open. 'He's disabling the wards and opening the other doors. Stay close.'

Harry silently obeyed, marvelling at the look of stark determination on her face as his vision began to clear – well, as much as it could clear without his glasses…

****************

'Open up damn you!' Sirius bellowed, pounding on the door to #4 Privet Drive. When no answer came, he jumped up and down several times to peer into the small window imbedded in the top portion of the front door. 'Oh, bugger all!' he growled, punching the door and leaving a slight dent in it. 'They're not home! Where the hell are they?!' He turned to look desperately at the others. 'What are we going to do now?'

'Well,' Snape sneered. 'As we're wizards, we could break in rather easily and see if we can find out where they are, or when they might be back… Unless you've forgotten a simple unlocking charm…'

'You know, Snape…' Sirius began furiously, only to be cut off by the sharp voice of the headmaster.

'You two are really starting to stretch my patience – _Alohamora_' he muttered, pointing his wand at the door. 'Inside, all of you, before we start attracting too much attention standing out here.'

Once they had ascertained that none of the Dursley's were, in fact, home, Albus, Arabella, Remus, Sirius and Severus gathered in the front hall.

'Mr. Black, Mr. Snape,' Albus said in as ice a tone as any of them had ever heard. 'I'd like a work with the two of you, while we wait for their return. In the kitchen will do.'  The two dark haired men stood in shock, their spluttering protests cut short by the old wizard's hard look.

'Arabella, Remus?' he asked, turning a kinder – if weary gaze on them. 'If you'll excuse us for a few minutes? I'd appreciate it if you would watch the front for the Dursley's return. Gentlemen…' His steely tone sent Sirius and Severus skulking through to the kitchen.

'Wow…' breathed Arabella as she and Remus took station in the sitting room where they could see the driveway through a window. 'You don't see him angry like that very often… I don't much envy those two right now…'

'He's very stressed,' Remus muttered. 'He's wearing himself ragged worrying about everything: Harry – Draco – Sirius – Severus – all of us…' He sighed, still staring out the window and not meeting Arabella's eyes. 'I guess those two constantly at each other's throats is just getting to him.'

'What's he saying to them?' she asked, a slight look of mischief interrupting her worried mask.

'Mum!' he replied, aghast. 'Is this the same woman who used to yell at me that just because I _could hear better than everyone else didn't mean that I should abuse…'_

'Yes, yes…' She waved off his mild rebuke. 'One has to say things like that to children. So you learn right from wrong and all that. Right now though…' She smirked. 'I want to know if he's giving them a proper – ' She broke off when Remus choked, stifling a laugh. 'What?!' she demanded.

'He just threatened to summon the old school cane. _'I don't care if you're thirty-eight, if you both insist on acting like twelve-year-olds I will start treating you like twelve-year-olds.' _ What?' he snorted to her superior look. 'Just because I said I **shouldn't** be eavesdropping doesn't mean I won't. Besides, the walls are thin – it's not like I can help hearing… Oh!' He motioned past Arabella to the window. 'A car just pulled in the driveway. I'll get Albus – the Dursley's know you, they might not be so alarmed if it's you who greets them.'

************

'Alright Harry,' Narcissa whispered as they rushed up the stone steps. 'When we get back above ground, I want you to find a door, or window, or Floo, or _anything_ and get out of here right away…'

'What about you?' he demanded, alarmed by the implication that she wouldn't be leaving with him. 

'Draco,' she whispered, her voice filled with pain. 'I can't… You don't understand… my husband with force him to join… to become… what _he_ is,' she finished awkwardly.

'A Death Eater?' Harry gasped out, his chest aching as the seemingly endless stairs reminded him forcefully of the fact that it had been two, maybe three days since he'd last eaten.

Narcissa's sombre look was all the confirmation Harry required, and he couldn't argue with the sentiment. Whether Draco wanted to be a Death Eater or not, (though, his temperament during their week of extra lessons suggested that he didn't) if Harry could stop _Voldemort_ from adding even one more Death Eater to his ranks… _even one more… even if it was Malfoy…_

'I'll stay with you. We'll get him out too…' he said finally, grim determination in his voice.

'No! Harry, you're too important… _You must get out…' They had stopped now on a landing, a warm, fire-lit room beckoning from the other side of the open dungeon door, only a handful of steps away._

'Listen,' Harry reasoned gently. 'Even _if I knew how to get out __and I managed it without getting caught…' He thought fleetingly of how useful his invisibility cloak would be about now… '_If_ I get out, I have __no idea where we are. I can't __Apparate, and I don't have my wand…' He scowled, cursing Malfoy Sr. for taking it. 'So I can't even summon the Knight Bus… We'd be better off trying to get out together…'_

Harry never knew if Narcissa would have let him help her rescue Draco, or forced him to leave by the closest Floo, for at that moment, a large form appeared in the door frame, blocking the warm light from the room without…

'Alas,' Lucius Malfoy's voice flowed down to them. 'That will not be happening. Do come up though – the both of you.' He sneered maliciously at Narcissa as she and Harry entered the anteroom. 'The results have just come in from the blood tests we did on young Harry here and our own dear Draco. Really, Narcissa,' he went on in a condescending voice, flicking her matted hair from her shoulder. 'The state of you… and, by all accounts, worming into the boy's cell? A last bit of fun was it? Disgusting,' he snarled, grabbing her roughly. 'He's the same age as your son…'

What she did next not only surprised Harry, but it raised his feeling of respect for Narcissa Malfoy another notch: she spat in her husband's face and brought her knee up sharply. Still, Harry couldn't help but groan in commiseration as the blond wizard shoved her back forcefully and doubled over, grabbing his knees, his face paling to nearly transparent.

'You _bitch_!' Lucius ground out before muttering a quick healing spell on his groin. Apparently the pain made him forget magical retaliation for a minute, because as soon as he could stand again, he lunged forward and punched his wife across the jaw.  Far smaller than her husband in stature, and weakened from her imprisonment, Narcissa fell heavily to the floor and didn't move right away. Long enough for Lucius to magically bind and gag her.

Harry, who had lunged forward to help her when Lucius had hit her, could only watch as her eyes regained their focus, only to glare at her husband with such menacing hatred that Harry actually shuddered slightly. He turned, intending to say something scathing only to find himself facing the elder Malfoy's wandpoint. Before he could even fully register this fact though, he was hit with a spell – not an unforgivable, though this was small comfort to Harry who found himself flying at great speed through the corridors and into a room where he was slammed against a wall so hard that he was momentarily stunned, stars literally floating across his vision. He was only vaguely aware of thick iron manacles slithering up to bind his wrists and ankles firmly against the wall, preventing him from falling to the floor in a heap.

A minute later, just as he was beginning to regain his senses, Harry saw Lucius Malfoy walk in, dragging Narcissa by her ropes and followed by a slouching Wormtail. It was only when Lucius dumped her on the floor in front of a large chair that Harry noticed that Draco was in this room as well – bound to that chair as tightly as he was bound to the wall.

**************

'What the…'

'Hello Vernon, Petunia… Dudley.' Arabella smiled, trying to look harmless so the family didn't start screaming and run from their home. 'There is an urgent matter I wish to speak with you about – please come inside.'

'Mrs. Figg?' demanded Petunia, looking at her curiously. 'What are you doing…? How did you get in here?'

'Please…' Arabella beckoned them in and toward the kitchen. 'It's important.'

Though they looked at her as if she'd gone completely senile, the three did finally step in and shut the door. Arabella felt two streams of magic whiffle past her, locking the door and erecting a sound muffling charm. The Dursleys however, still hadn't noticed that anything (other than their neighbour standing in the middle of their foyer) was amiss.

Half a breath later though, the _exact_ nature of the situation hit home for the Dursleys when four robe-clad wizards strode purposefully from the kitchen. It was then, as the saying goes, that _all hell broke loose_. Petunia let out a shriek and seemed to fall away in a dead faint; however, when her husband failed to halt her descent, allowing her to thud ungracefully to the floor, she glared up at him with a huff.

Vernon, for his part did not move, he did not yell, he did not sputter – he barely seemed to be breathing – that is until Dudley let out an ungodly shriek and started pounding on the door. Arabella was immediately grateful for whoever had had the forethought to put up the _Quiet neighbours__™ charm… between Petunia screaming, Dudley shrieking and pounding on the door and Vernon's bellows, they'd have roused the dead otherwise._

'**SILENCE!!' Even the Muggles seemed to recognise and instantly obey the power and impatience in the order issued by the Headmaster and fell silent instantly. But the quiet didn't last, barely stopping for a breath, Vernon – quite unwisely began speaking again.**

'Get out.' Dursley was shaking – as much from fear as from anger as he spoke, pointing angrily at the Headmaster. 'I've told you before, we don't want your kind…' But before he could finish the insult, Sirius had transformed and launched himself in dog form at Vernon, bowling him back against the door, only an inch away from squashing Dudley.

Before anyone else could react, Arabella had grabbed him roughly by scruff of the neck and yanked him back. 'Sirius! No!' she yelled angrily, thwaping him hard on the snout eliciting a painful sounding yelp from the black dog. 'You go over there if you can't keep your head.' She pointed angrily back toward where the others stood waiting. 'Attacking won't get us what we need. GO!' At the anger in her voice Sirius whined, his tail between his legs as he ran quickly behind Remus and Albus before transforming back again, rubbing his nose in pain.

'Ow…' he grumbled. 'Arabella,' he practically whimpered. 'We don't need _his blood,' he nodded toward Vernon. 'He's not a blood relative…' Her glare stopped him from continuing, and he quickly crouched further behind Albus. _

Snape's grunt of amusement was abruptly aborted when Arabella turned her attention on to him. Quailing under her glare, he suddenly decided that perhaps Sirius wasn't being cowardly when he hid from that anger… 'Err,' he cleared his throat nervously. 'Yes, well… for the potion, the aunt would be a better donor. She's the closer blood relative…' He knew he was babbling, and would have found it much more alarming if he hadn't noticed that even Albus seemed to keep his distance from this woman when she was riled.  'Although, it could be done with the cousin's blood if we can't get enough from her…'

The silence that followed this stuttering pronouncement lasted only a moment before mayhem once more erupted in the small foyer.

Petunia fainted – for real this time. Vernon started yelling threateningly about summoning the constables only to be drowned out by his son who started shrieking the moment it got through to his brain that they might want his blood. Bowling over Vernon (who very nearly crushed his wife when he fell), Dudley pounded to the stairs, knocking Arabella over in his haste.

'Mum!' Remus cried, hearing a painful sounding _thump_ as her head hit the wall on her way down. He was at her side in a flash, Albus and Sirius – his fear of her from only a moment before forgotten instantly – right behind him.

'_Petrificus_ Totalus!_' Severus yelled, aiming the spell at the obese boy who froze halfway up the stairs.  Any woman who could reduce such powerful wizards as himself, Albus, Lupin and even (though he was loathe to admit it) Black to cowering, stuttering boys deserved more than to be shoved into a wall by such a reckless, fat, stupid Muggle child as this._

'What?!' he demanded, flustered at the shocked expressions sent his way. 'He might have gotten away.' _It's not because I was angry that he might have hurt her. I don't care about her – or any of you. What?! **Stop looking at me like that!!**_

'Has the _Muggle Impervious potion worn off then?' Arabella asked, an amused glint in her eyes as she regained her feet, brushing off the concerned wizards around her._

'It must have done,' Sirius replied, though he looked confused. 'When was he last dosed?'

'Yesterday,' Albus replied, looking curiously at the frozen boy before affecting a more voluntary freeze on the elder male Dursley with a glare when he started to get to his feet.

'Yesterday?!' Sirius erupted. 'It's supposed to last a month in their systems. Who is the idiot who brewed it?'

'There is nothing wrong with the potion I brewed Black.' Severus replied in a deadly low voice.

'Of course it was you!' Sirius fumed, stepping closer to him. 'I should have known you'd cock up something as simple as an _Impervious_ potion. _Accidentally_, of course…' 

The implication that he'd sabotaged the potion hung in the air for only a second before Severus was stepping forward. 'Look Black…' he began, glaring death at the other man. He didn't finish however as before he could step any closer, or say anything else, Arabella was between them, shoving them furiously apart.

'Stop it! Just Stop it.' She was furious, and both wizards were again stepping nervously out of her reach, but she grabbed both by the fronts of their robes. 'You,' she snarled at Severus. 'Go and collect the blood from the woman. Now!' She shoved him toward the cowering couple, still on the floor. 'You,' she turned furiously to Sirius, who covered his nose protectively out of instinct. 'Go and stand against the wall there before I really lose my temper with you.'

***************

'Mum…?' Draco croaked. He struggled to grasp more firmly onto consciousness. He was losing the battle though: the room kept blurring… blackening at the edges. Then suddenly, he felt a calming warmth envelope him. _What is that?_ he wondered vaguely. It was a familiar feeling… a familiar sound…

'Stop that!' Lucius' loudly barked order ended the soothing feeling abruptly and Draco heard a _thud and a grunt of pain from near his feet. Looking down, he tried in vain to identify the form on the floor, but before he spoke again to ask who was there, the comforting humming resumed and he closed his eyes with a contented sigh…_

_Mum…_ he smiled, drifting into his memories of his mother's healing love. _Mum… Mummy's voice… she must be close…_

**'I said STOP!!'** bellowed Lucius, incensed. '**_Crucio_****_!'_**

The gentle humming was instantly replaced by anguished, muffled cries of pain. This, combined with the sound of another voice, screaming in anger, yelling obscenities, brought Draco to a sudden, harsh total consciousness.

'Goddamn you! Stop it!!' 

_Potter! It was Potter – screaming obscenities at Lucius!_ Draco realised with surprise.

'Stop it you sick freak!! You bastard…'

_Oh-My-God!_ thought Draco swinging his head around. _Potter is crying! And where did he learn that kind of language?! he wondered as Harry hurled profanity after profanity at Lucius. _And **where** did he find the balls to scream at **Lucius Malfoy** like that?__

'You fucking sick bastard! Leave her alone… stop it… stop it…' Harry was sobbing now and Draco turned away from him, trying again to identify just _who Lucius was torturing._

For the briefest of moments – probably no longer than the time between heartbeats, Draco locked his eyes with the pain-deadened violet eyes of his mother. He felt his heart freeze and all his blood rushing in his ears like waves in that instant. To him, it seemed as if a lifetime passed as his mother's gaze pierced into him, then she drew a deep, shuddering breath… and started to hum again. 

It was not the beautiful voice of his mother that he knew and loved; the usual warmth of it was tinged with such sadness and pain that Draco was certain that his heart would die under the weight of it. Lucius hadn't lifted his _Cruciatus curse, but she was still trying to hum. Gagged and in pain, she wouldn't stop trying to help her son…_

'Idiot woman!' Lucius snarled, lifting his curse at last. 'Wormtail!' he snapped. 'Over here… Now! Both of us together.'

With only a slight flicker of unease, Wormtail skulked over, raising his wand beside Lucius.

'You will learn, boy,' Lucius snarled at the now weeping Draco. 'You will learn not to cry over this _thing.' He nudged Narcissa with the toe of his boot before nodding to Wormtail._

'**_Crucio_****_!!_' they said together.**

The humming stopped, and this time, both Harry and Draco screamed for her as Narcissa whimpered into the gag around her mouth, her body rigid and arched from pain.

The men didn't move, or lift their wands for several seconds even after she finally fell limply back to the ground. Unconscious… or worse…

Both boys were sobbing by the time it was over, bruised, and even bloodied from where they'd both struggling against their bonds.

'Mum…' Draco whispered, his voice hoarse from yelling. She didn't move, her breathing shallow and rasping and her face gaunt and drawn even in unconsciousness. A sudden, hard slap across his face brought Draco back out of the well of darkness he had been rapidly following his mother into.

'Draco!' Lucius said with disdain, holding Draco's chin in a vice-like grip, his face mere inches away. 'Be a man. You do not weep for this creature. She's not even half human, and a traitor besides…'

'She is not!' Draco growled in return, wrenching his chin out of his father's grip. 'Harry's right, you are a sick fuck. My mother is more human as you have ever been!' Before he could go on any further, Lucius hit him again, hard enough that his head struck the back of the chair, and he saw stars for a minute.

'You fucking bastards!' Harry screamed at Lucius and Wormtail. 'You're cowards! They're fucking tied up!!'

'You know,' snarled Lucius, stepping over the unconscious form of his wife. 'You really are a nuisance, boy. My Lord wants you alive…' He stepped in front of Harry, who was still struggling against the chains binding him to the wall. 'But I don't think he'd mind if I _played with you a bit before I turn you over to him… __Cruicio__!'_

Draco cringed in sympathy and was surprised to hear his own voice shouting over Harry's screams of pain, begging his father to stop. But it didn't help. It wasn't until Wormtail shouted out, reminding him that Voldemort wanted Harry sane, as well as alive, that Lucius finally lifted his curse.

Harry was gasping for breath, now slumping heavily against the wall, his arms limp in their manacles.

'I knew your parents, Harry.' Lucius taunted. 'Oh, not as well as I would have liked… especially that mother of yours…' Harry lifted his head to glare at this, causing Lucius to laugh.

'Do you remember it Peter?' he smirked, twirling his wand in his hands. 'The night they died? It was brilliant! Or it was up until the end…' He sighed, reaching out to cup Harry's face in a mockery of friendly concern. 'We were just outside…' He motioned to Wormtail, who had moved back and was now leaning against a pillar in the middle of the room, looking up through the skylight. 'Standing guard, in case reinforcements arrived… they didn't, of course…'

Draco watched as Harry's face contorted with a growing rage. When Lucius had first begun speaking, Harry'd gone pale, but as he continued, Draco saw a rage induced flush creep across his face. And his eyes… his eyes were flashing in a way that, if he hadn't been chained to a wall, Draco would have described as _Dangerous looking._

'The smartest thing Peter did afterward was to frame that fool Black for _his_ own crimes! That truly _was_ a bit of brilliance…' Lucius laughed again, finally releasing Harry's face with a shove, causing his head to impact the wall with a _crack_.

'But _ahhh,' Lucius sighed. 'That mother of yours, Harry. I'd have traded this thing…' He motioned to Narcissa's unconscious body, 'for her in a second if she'd had a drop of pure blood in her. It really was a pity that she refused to obey my Master…' He leaned in again, a leering smirk on his face. 'If only she hadn't angered him so, she might've lived a little longer… we all could have had _such **fun**_ with her before she died. Such a waste the way things happened… she was a pretty wee __Mudblood your mother was, my boy. Yes, she would have been a fun toy…'_

Draco had heard of people having a single moment of clarity just before they died. 

He had heard that time was relative – that a single moment could last forever – that time could contract and expand at will. He had heard that certain magicks could fracture the universe. Until this moment, he had never believed a word of it... 

Until this moment, he had never seen Harry Potter completely lose control… _Until this moment…_

Later, he would wonder if he'd imagined what happened next, if the wild raw magic flying over him in waves hadn't caused him to hallucinate… 

He felt himself teetering on the edge of oblivion. He imagined that for a second that seemed to last an eternity, the World literally stood still. The Universe stopped, and every atom in creation turned in terror to a large room in a large castle where two smallish, not quite fifteen-year-old boys were being held…

Draco blinked, and when he reopened his eyes, time righted itself, and the Universe seemed to slam violently back into position. When he looked at Harry, Draco knew what was the cause of the currents of raw magic swirling around them. In that instant, Harry, a look of pure, unadulterated fury on his face, opened his mouth and _screamed_.

It was not a scream of fear, nor could it be said to be of anger – for anger is too simple, too calm an emotion for what this was. Draco felt the air _whoosh_ out of his lungs as the sound of it hit him. 

_This was a scream that could end the world._

Every human and inhuman emotion was within it, and it hurt not only his ears to hear it, but his whole body, his heart – his _soul_ was crying out in despair.

He was shaking, tears streaming down his face, his mouth open in a silent, commiserating scream. But the pain he was in was nothing compared to what his father and Wormtail were apparently feeling… 

When it had first begun, Lucius had fallen back until he was once more in front of Draco. Very quickly, he and Wormtail were on their knees, clawing at their ears… crying out loud, in madness…

Draco looked over to his father, pleading with him with his eyes to help him, but as bits of plaster and stone started falling around them, Lucius flickered, and _Apparated away. Wormtail followed immediately after him._

For the second time, Draco felt a crushing pain in his chest, but this time, it wasn't Harry's magic that caused it. This time, it was the bitter pain of betrayal. 

_After everything, his father had abandoned him…_

He didn't have long to mull over that thought though, as more and more debris was falling around him… It wasn't him shaking, the whole building was quaking in its' foundations. Bits of the ceiling were falling in now and Draco could see patches of sky peeking through. The structure was collapsing… the _castle_ was shuddering and giving way to the overwhelming power vibrating through it. _Potter's power… Potter's magic…_

As the magic of the castle faltered, the chains binding both of them fell away, useless. Draco leaped up, hunching over his mother in an attempt to protect her. Harry fell to the ground when the chains released him, and the jolt finally stopped his scream, and so his magic… 

But it was too late, the foundations, the walls, none of it would hold up much longer.

He knew they wouldn't survive, that they would be crushed to death, any moment now. There was no escape. Suddenly, Draco felt overcome with anger. Anger toward Harry. His father had left him to die, and Harry was going to be the one to kill him. Kill them all. The two of them, the elves, he was sure there were several other Death Eaters in another part of the castle… _and Mum_…

A book fell near him from a high shelf, and in a fit of jealousy and rage he picked it up and hurled it at Harry. In another situation, the look on Harry's face when the book hit him on the shoulder might have been comical, but as it was, Draco could only shriek: 'You've _killed us! The roof is collapsing! We're all going to die! And we can't even try to put up any of or stupid shields because I don't know where my fucking wand is!!'_

Draco might have gone on, but at that instant, all hell broke loose.

*************

In an ordinary Muggle house very far away a witch and four wizards stopped in their tracks, looking pained and somewhat disoriented.

'What the hell…? demanded Severus turning away from Petunia Dursley who had been cowering in her chair, trying desperately to come up with a way to stop the wizard from stealing even a drop of her blood.

'_Harry!_' cried Sirius, clutching the wall for support.

'Sirius,' Remus said quickly, moving to comfort his distraught friend. 'We don't know…'

'No,' interrupted Dumbledore gravely. 'I think it is Harry… but…' He turned to Severus so suddenly that the normally unshakable wizard jumped slightly. 'Severus, Malfoy Manor. Are the wards still up?'

Severus blinked, taking only a second to try to connect with the Malfoy castle in order to _Apparate there… and gasped. This time it was he who needed to clutch at the wall for support. He knew what it signified if the wards were as completely down as he felt they were… 'They're down!' he cried. 'The wards are down! I have access!'_

**End Chapter four.**


	5. Pain, Revisited

**Chapter Five: _Pain, Revisited_**

_'…_ _she__ was a pretty wee Mudblood your mother was, my boy. Yes, she would have been a fun toy…'_

Harry couldn't take one more moment – couldn't hear one more word. The world tilted sideways, then slammed back into position. In a fraction of a second, Harry felt the cosmos shudder. He felt the overwhelming power of hatred and anger coursing through his veins like a drug.

Time froze as Harry saw all of creation shudder on the edge of oblivion – every atom looking to him in fear. Dimly he started to pull himself from the brink seeing agony on the faces of Wormtail and Malfoy Sr. before they _Apparated away. _

Suddenly, the chains binding him to the wall released and he fell to the floor, instantly fully aware of his surroundings again. It was then that he realised that he wasn't shaking – the building was. Something hit him hard on the shoulder and he looked around in a panic. The roof was caving in – chunks of plaster and stone were falling all around him. 

They had to get out of there! He looked desperately to where Narcissa and Draco had been. Narcissa was still unconscious and now Draco was crouching over her and screaming at him. He couldn't make out what Draco was saying, but he thought he saw his mouth form the words _collapse… all die… shield_. 

**_SHIELD!!!_** was the last thought screaming through his mind before Harry knew nothing but chaos… and then darkness.

****************

Rubble.

Everywhere, rubble – dust of crumbled plaster and stone, shattered wood and… everything that was part of a home. Water was spraying out at odd angles from the wreckage… broken pipes…

For the briefest of moments Sirius stood frozen, hauntingly familiar images from the past coming unbidden and unwelcome to his mind, blocking what was before his eyes.

_The dust had been settling still as he'd Apparated in front of the house – where the house **had **been._

_He'd been running from the opposite side of the village, fearing the worst when Peter hadn't been where he was supposed to be, when he'd felt the wards fall. The wards that protected the Potters, that prevented Apparating within a mile of their house. There was only one reason why they would have fallen…_

_In a panic, he'd Disapparated, mid-stride and arrived, staggering into hell._

The howl that rose now from his heart and through his throat was beyond his control – oblivious to the witch and wizards he'd arrived with, and beyond mad with despair, he flung himself into the rubble, and as he'd done nearly fourteen years earlier, at another – far more familiar – home, he began frantically digging through the wreckage.

A body. Broken. Quite dead – but not Harry. Fling it aside. Keep digging… keep digging…

_Nonononononononono__!! He is **not** dead! He can't be. Not Harry… not Harry…_

'**Harry!!**' He didn't care, didn't even know that Dumbledore, Arabella, Snape or Remus were still there.

Anguish… despair… terror… these he knew, these he felt and nothing else.

His face was wet with tears, tears decidedly _not _caused by the dust in his eyes. He didn't care. There was only Harry… _I must find Harry!_

Suddenly, a hand – a boy's hand – bloody and pale, but was it Harry? He cursed the years of prison and hiding that had kept him from _knowing_ for certain. He clawed at the stones around the hand – before… before…. When he'd been a baby, Sirius would have known if it was Harry from one finger – even one toe. _He would have **known!**_

Tears clouded his vision, but he could see blond hair. Not Harry. Dead? No, alive – a boy Harry's age… the Malfoy boy… compassion broke through his despair – and hope… if this boy had survived, maybe Harry…

He gently brushed the boy's hair, matted with blood, back from his cut and bleeding face. The boy responded with a slight groan. Somehow, Sirius managed to open his mouth to speak – he couldn't see where the others were – blind with dust and tears to all but this fragile form in his arms.

'Here.' He wasn't sure if he'd whispered or screamed the word, but as he spoke, the boy stirred and opened his eyes, looking up at the man who held him.

'Today is my birthday,' he said quietly, smiling through the tears flowing unnoticed from his eyes. 'Are you here for the party?'

'He's in shock, Sirius.' It was Remus, but Sirius couldn't let go just yet.

'Draco,' he said in what he hoped was a kind voice. 'Where's Harry?' The boy's face darkened, clearly being brought back painfully to the present.

'He was there…' His voice was thick with pain and confusion as he tried to orient himself. 'And my mum…' He dissolved then into tears, babbling about his mum's singing. 

Sirius handed him gently to Remus. He paid no further attention to where Remus took the boy as he returned to digging, now even more frantically, at the rubble near where he'd found Draco.

More blonde hair – more blood… A woman's torso, rising and falling – slowly – Alive… _so much blood!!_

_Help_. Did he say that aloud? No matter, Snape and Dumbledore were there suddenly, helping to dig her out – and carry her away.

_Two alive._ They'd been standing together. _Please God!!_ His heart was screaming, pounding in his chest so hard, he thought it might rupture.

Dig… dig… can't stop… fingers bleeding… can't stop… _let him be alive – **let him live!!**_

_Dark hair – messy dark hair – _so full of dust it almost didn't look like his. So much like James' hair though – no amount of time apart could make him mistake that hair.

_PLEASE GOD!!!_

Harry was on his stomach, his face turned away. Sirius pulled the rubble off of him, flinging it away without a care for where it landed – just as long as it was away from Harry.

Rubble cleared… covered in dust… Sirius reached a trembling hand – he was limp – no resistance as Sirius turned him gently onto his back.

_That face!!_ Great tears fell from Sirius' eyes, splashing onto that young face, making muddy rivers through the layer of dust… _That face! So like another face Sirius had dug out of another pile of rubble… _James! I couldn't save you!!__

'Harry,' he whispered, knowing that if he were dead so then, would he, Sirius be dead. He _would not go on – ****__could not if he had failed Harry as well… if he'd arrived too late _again._ 'Harry,' he begged, wiping his own tears gently off of the boy's face._

**_Please God!!_**

And then he moved.

'Harry?' Sirius pleaded, sobbing unashamedly now as he pushed the hair out of his godson's eyes – exposing the scar on his forehead, just where it'd been the last time Sirius had dug him out of the remains of a ruined house.

''m I alive?' the boy croaked, wincing at the effort.

Sirius felt a great explosion of joy. If his heart had been pounding hard before from fear and exertion, it was bursting now from joy.

'Harry, you're alive!' his voice caught in his chest. 'Thank God, you're alive!'

'Sirius?' Harry's breathing was ragged, but he managed the strength to grab his godfather's wrist. 'Pettigrew…' He struggled for a moment to go on, his strength fading even before Sirius shushed him.

'Just rest Harry,' he whispered, picking him up and holding him close. _God! He's so light!_

For the first time since they'd arrived, Sirius turned to look at the others. Remus was fastening a tourniquet to stop the Malfoy boy's bleeding, Arabella was kneeling over the limp form of the woman and Dumbledore has his back turned to them, his wand pointing south, muttering a spell that Sirius couldn't hear. 

Sirius caught Snape's eye. Though he was crouched next to Draco, his hand resting gently on the boy's forehead, the dark eyes focussed now on him and Harry. Sirius was too mentally spent to wonder at the strange look of concern and compassion he saw on the potions master's face.

'…lifted the anti-_Apparition field…' Dumbledore was talking. It took a monumental effort for Sirius to focus his attention on what the old wizard was saying. 'It's safe now to Apparate directly into Harry's house…'_

'Wouldn't St. Mungo's…?' began Arabella, but Dumbledore cut her off.

'Not safe. The Dursley's is safe – the other wards are still active. Sirius, Remus, Severus, take these three there now. I will collect some mediwitches and wizards from St. Mungo's and meet you there directly. Go **now!**' he ordered sharply. 'Before the Aurors start arriving. Arabella, you stay here and deal with them.' Very quickly all of Dumbledore's orders were obeyed.

*******************

In Harry's bedroom a moment later, Remus conjured an extra bed and gently laid the limp form of Narcissa Malfoy on it. He reached a shaking hand to brush her matted, dust-filled hair off of her face. 

The two boys were awake; they were in pain, and clearly injured, but they were awake. They were resilient. Remus was more worried about Narcissa's chances. She was breathing – that was something at least, but her slight frame shuddered with each ragged breath.

Dimly, he became aware of Snape's glittering gaze on him, and abandoning his usual calm air, he glared back at him.

'Sirius,' he barked loudly. 'Transform before they get here. Sirius! Now!' he yelled, grabbing his friend's shoulder. The dejected man kneeling next to Harry's bed instantly transformed into a dejected-looking dog.

Within seconds, half a dozen mediwitches and wizards Apparated in with Dumbledore and went straight to work on the casualties. They'd barely begun their examinations though when the door burst open to reveal a very fat, very angry looking Muggle: Vernon Dursley.

************

'Get out of my hou-' His bellowing voice stuttered to a halt when he finally digested the sight before him. His worst fear coming to pass – his house was full of witches and wizards – wands… robes… 'Wha… wha… wha…' he mouthed stupidly to the suddenly silent room. All eyes were on him – more than a dozen people and a large black dog somehow crammed into the small room…

It was the dog who broke the tableau finally, its growls bringing him to new heights of terror. Its hackles were raised, its teeth bared, muscles taught… He recognised it as the dog that was also a wizard, one of those who had broken into his house earlier, demanding their blood… He was certain by the way it was looking at him now that the animal was about to attack again.

It was with no small amount of relief that he saw a small, bloodied hand reach between the robed forms huddled around Harry's bed to rest on the dog's shoulders. 'Snuffles…' he heard a voice croak. 

_Was that Harry?_ Vernon wondered. It sounded like him, but also decidedly _not_ like him. The voice was weary and deepened by pain – but also determined in a way that Vernon Dursley had never heard from his nephew before.

More alarming to him though, was the reaction of the witches and wizards in the room: every eye had turned to the sound of his voice – even the dog… A kind of deep silence had fallen over the room and they all seemed to be waiting for Harry to say something else.

'What the _hell is going on?!' Vernon couldn't keep quiet a second longer. This was __his house dammit! _

'Will someone get that Muggle out of here!?' demanded one of the witches. 'He's distressing my patient!'

Before Vernon could even open his mouth to reprimand her for ignoring him and ordering him about in his own home, he found himself out in the hall, Harry's bedroom door slamming in his face. The door glowed red for a moment then returned to its usual beige colour. On balance, Vernon decided that this would be a good time to take his family out for a few hours. 

He did not try to reopen the bedroom door.

***************

'Mum?! – **Leave me alone!**' Draco snapped at the mediwitch trying to tend to his injuries. 'How is she? **Mum!'**

'Draco,' Severus said, almost gently as he helped to try and restrain the struggling teenager. 'Others are helping her, now let Dr. Chan help you.'

'But…' He continued to fight, trying to see where his mother was. 'Is she alright?'

'They're working on her… _Will you stay still and let them help you as well!'_

'_No!_' Draco pushed the mediwitch away again. 'I'm fine! She…'

'**You're not!**' Severus snapped angrily causing the younger wizard to flinch. 'Draco.' He softened his tone, forcing the teen to meet his gaze. 'Just look at me – forget about what she's doing,' he ordered quietly as the mediwitch began to examine him. 'Perhaps if you tell me what she was hit with, it'll help them to treat her… Look here,' he commanded again as Draco's eyes strayed once more toward his mother's still form.

_'Cruciatus_,' he whispered, wiping angrily at his rebellious eyes. 'Both my father and Peter Pettigrew…' 

Severus silenced the witch's gasp with a glance. 

'And then she… she was gagged…' Draco fought uselessly against the tears staining his dust-streaked face. 'But she… she wouldn't stop humming anyway… Even after they'd both cast the _Cruciatus_…' Giving up any pretence, the teen began shaking with sobs. 'Because of me… she was trying to heal me… it's my fault…'

'Shhh…' With a nod from the mediwitch assuring him that he wouldn't cause injury, the potions master took the sobbing boy into a hug. Too far gone in shock to care how it looked, Draco buried his battered face in the older wizard's shoulder. 'It is most decidedly _not_ your fault child.' Severus let Draco cry quietly for several minutes before accepting the goblet of sleeping potion from Dr. Chan.

'Here,' he murmured, breaking the embrace. 'Drink this – it's a sleeping potion. Do as I say,' he ordered softly when Draco began to refuse. 'You need to heal, and Dr. Chan needs you asleep to perform a few procedures.' He pushed the goblet into Draco's hand. 'I will tell them what you told me – it _will help them to treat her. Drink it now,' he commanded again, helping the teen to tip the goblet to his mouth._

'That was a very good bedside manner.' Dr. Chan smiled. 'I wasn't sure I'd be able to get him to take it… how did you know it was a sleeping potion?' Severus merely glared at her, gently laying the now sleeping Draco back onto the bed. 'Oh, right,' she blushed. 'You're the potions master now aren't you?'

'Excuse me,' Severus muttered, still glaring at her as he moved toward the wizards attending to Narcissa Malfoy. Trying to ignore the pale and desperately worried look on the werewolf's face, he addressed the mediwizards. 'Her son told me that she was hit with a double _Cruciatus before the building collapsed.' Pretending not to hear Lupin's low growl, he continued. 'She is half Veela, and was attempting a healing song through a gag when she was cursed.'_

Instantly, the mediwizards renewed their efforts to help her, knowing now what was wrong.

'How is Draco?' Lupin asked, his voice tight as he worked to contain his anger.

'He'll live.'

Remus nodded quietly, making a visible effort to calm himself as he glanced to the third bed. Sirius had jumped up on the matress and was curled up in his dog form at Harry's feet, whining.

'What about Harry?' Remus asked.

'No idea – I've been busy trying to convince Draco to allow the mediwitch to treat him. He's more concerned with his mother.'  Remus was nodding absently again, having turned his gaze back to Narcissa. 

She was as beautiful as ever, he thought. Her hair was matted and every inch of her was battered, bruised and filthy. But her beauty had never been in her hair, or her clothes or her skin – nor even in her stunning violet eyes… Her beauty was far deeper than that, and couldn't be concealed by the layers of grime and dust that covered her now – her beauty couldn't even be squelched by unconsciousness – her beauty was her heart, how she loved without reservation, how she sought always to see the best in people.

Her true beauty that had once given hope to a lonely creature by giving him a glimpse again at his own humanity… once – long ago…

'Do you want to trade patients?' offered Snape, not sure why he wanted to ease the werewolf's obvious distress.

'No.' Remus smiled sadly at the odd gesture. Tearing his eyes away from Narcissa, he looked over at her sleeping son. 'If he can't have his mother, he should at least have his godfather at his side when he wakes.'

'I don't even want to know how you knew that,' Severus growled turning back to Draco.

'How is he?' Remus called to the Chief mediwitch hovering over Harry. The teen was asleep – at least Remus prayed that he was only asleep. The witch glanced uncomfortably between Remus and Snape, hesitating.

'_Everyone_ in this room has my complete trust,' Dumbledore announced firmly. 'Or they wouldn't be here Doctor.'

'Yes,' she answered quickly. 'Of course. Er, broken arm and ribs. Bruises, cuts, gashes…' She looked sadly down on her patient. 'All of _that can be healed quickly of course – it's a miracle they all weren't crushed…' She frowned in obvious confusion. 'But…'_

'Yes,' Remus prompted.

'He's suffering from _magical exhaustion…' Her frown deepened. 'It's as if…' She looked carefully around the room again. 'It's as if, he's expelled a __massive burst of magic – with no preparation… it's like it just poured out of him through… through his skin, I think… I don't know – I've never seen anything like it before…'_

'She means no focus – no wand,' Remus said, looking pointedly at the dog. 'Can you treat him?' He turned back, worried to the doctor.

'Yes…' The doctor shook off her confusion – both at the cause for the boy's condition, and why the man had spoken to the dog like that… 'Yes, the cuts and bruises – even the breaks, of course are easy… The _magical exhaustion_ – well, that's tougher. He'll need some strong restorative potions, and complete magical and physical rest for at least a week.'

'Snuffles?' Harry mumbled, startling everyone in the room. Sirius quickly leaned forward on the bed and nuzzled his godson's hand. Harry relaxed at the touch, smiling contentedly.

'How are the others?' he croaked, trying to sit up through his own pain to see them.

'Don't you worry about them now,' the doctor ordered, trying to make him lay still, but Harry shook his head, struggling against her.

'Harry,' Remus told him quickly, knowing that Harry wouldn't rest until he knew. It was in the boy's nature – even to check on the well being of his so-called enemy, Draco Malfoy. 'They're both here. Draco and his mum are both here. They're being treated as well.'

'Are they going to be alright?'

'Yes, Harry,' Remus smiled. 'Just rest now'

But Harry wouldn't be still. 'They cursed her…'

'We know Harry… we already know…'

'Professor! Wormtail was there – Pettigrew – he was there! I'm sorry…' He looked down at the dog at his side, tears forming in his eyes. 'I'm sorry – I couldn't… He got away again. I'm sorry… I'm sorry…' He let his head fall back again, tears escaping his eyes and running onto the already dust-stained pillow.

It took every ounce of willpower Sirius possessed not to transform right then and there to assure Harry that it wasn't his fault – to yell and scream that it wasn't _his duty to capture that _rat_ anyway – to comfort his godson who was so obviously in immense emotional pain…_

But he knew that he couldn't distract the mediwitches and wizards  from taking care of Harry, so he had to content himself with crawling forward, careful to avoid Harry's healing ribs and arm to lick his face once before laying his massive head on Harry's shoulder, hoping to offer reassurance in the only way he could.

'He's right, Harry,' said Remus, at his side suddenly. 'It's not your fault – and it's certainly not your job to capture that lousy _rat_.' Sirius stared at his friend in amazement – he'd managed to translate _exactly what he'd been trying to convey to his godson._

'You rest now,' Remus continued, laying his hand gently on the top of Harry's head. 'Rest and let them do what they need to do to help you. You're in good hands now.'

His eyes blinking slowly as he started to succumb to his weariness, Harry nodded slowly. 'Thank you Professor.' He sighed, slowly raising his hand to pat Snuffles' shoulder. 'Thank you Snuffles…' And then the potions and spells took him down beyond consciousness for a time…

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TBC

This one was quick! I debated cutting off here or continuing on through Harry's birthday, but really, this was a good breaking point.

Before anyone suggests it, Snape is *Not* out of character here. I maintain that the face he must put forward in public is not also his private face. As you see in this chapter, he is Draco's godfather. Their relationship is complicated, but he is not such a bastard that when a young person is suffering as much as Draco is at this moment, he wouldn't offer comfort. You see he still only glares at the witch he doesn't know personally.

Thank-you to everyone who reads this and most especially to those who have reviewed here, on ff.net and on the yahoo group!

Next chapter: Narcissa's convalescence, birthday's, Quidditch talk, school letters, hiding, healing and some deep thinking about the moon.


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